


Poison

by IllusionEvenstar



Category: Osmosis Jones (2001)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BDSM, Crossdressing, Forced Masturbation, M/M, Master/Slave, Masturbation, Mpreg, Public Humiliation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 98,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12700737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllusionEvenstar/pseuds/IllusionEvenstar
Summary: Thrax survived the fall. Ozzie couldn't save Frank. Ozzie is in Thrax's hands, in his captivity, in his mercy...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic written in 2009
> 
> One of my more popular fanfics back in my old account. I couldn’t resist after watching Osmosis Jones after so long and discovering my new fav pairing at the time, which is Ozzy/Thrax, I just had to write something like this. I took some inspiration from several hentai and porn shows, so yeah ;p

            “Can you feel the heat, Jones?”

            Ozzie struggled not to drop the hypothalamus chain he had worked so hard on retrieving. He was lucky that he managed to split a hole in the middle before Thrax struck, or he would’ve been fried like all the cells have before him in their fate with the virus. But of course, Thrax was too clouded in his victory to see that.

            “Too bad you won’t be there to see me break my record,” Thrax chuckled in his husky yet deadly malicious tone, “when I take down Frank’s pretty little girl!”

            “She ain’t going down,” Ozzie grinned, bringing Thrax’s attention to his embedded claw on the false eyelash. “You are!”

            Quickly, Ozzie split himself in half and escaped from under Thrax before reconnecting himself again. It was a sort of painful procedure—and he didn’t really like it when it happens—but in this case he’d make an exception.

            A few seconds before the false eyelashes fell off Shane’s lower eyelid, Ozzie quickly jumped off it and grabbed onto one of the gooey adhesive strands that dangled just below Shane’s real eyelash, leaving Thrax screaming in denial behind his wake. The nurses were starting to urge Shane to go away so that they could do their job.

            “Hey, hey, hey, no! Go back!” Ozzie exclaimed as he saw them moving further away. “Go back! Frank!”

            The adhesive strand he was holding onto was starting to come off. As Shane struggled out of the nurses’ hands and ran back to her dying father, Ozzie knew he had to first move to solid higher ground. Wrapping the chain around his wrist, he quickly pulled himself up and was about to reach up for one of the real eyelash when…

            “Gotcha!”

            The feeling of as if being rammed over by an immunity car on a high-speed car chase hit him tenfold as he was forced to break his hold from the strand and cling onto the next thing he could hold onto unless he wanted to drop a thousand feet below to the floor where he could be trampled to death. The only thing he didn’t expect to be clinging onto was Thrax, still in one piece!

            “What the Frank…Thrax?!” Ozzie struggled to get off him but was forced closer to the virus’ chest by a strong grip as they glided through the air.

            “If I were you, I’d stay put, baby,” Thrax chuckled as he swerved to avoid a IV bag carried by a rushing male nurse. “Unless you’d like to end up coagulated by the atmosphere around you. It ain’t pretty.”

            As disgusted and pissed as he was, Ozzie knew he was right. Unlike viruses, without the saline-like atmosphere every body has, cells would coagulate and it would be a matter of time before they suffocate in their coagulated shell and be broken into pieces like glass if not handled properly. Grudgingly, he allowed Thrax to hold him close while he held onto his turtleneck sweater, leaving the sobbing Shane to cry over her father’s dead body. Soon, they flew out of the hospital and out into the open air of human society.

            “That’s our pit-stop,” Thrax announced.

            Ozzie looked down. There was a teenager, probably a few years older than Shane, carrying a Pomeranian in her arms. Ozzie thought they were going to land on the girl, but instead, they landed on the dog.

            “Let’s take a little breather, shall we, baby?”

\--:--

            Ozzie was flung unceremoniously onto the motel bed. Surprisingly for Ozzie, unlike human bodies, the inhabitants of the dog were just as dumb and ignorant as the body. They couldn’t tell the difference between cell and virus and welcomed anybody. When questioned about why Thrax was dragging a kicking and screaming Ozzie along with him, Thrax only needed to flash a suave smile and said he was from a special task force of the immunity from another city and that Ozzie was his bounty, and they fell for it hook, line and sinker. They allowed Thrax to stay as long as he liked and ignored all denials screamed at by the poor white blood cell.

            “We’ll take a break before we move on to our next target,” Thrax fingered his chain nonchalantly as he removed his trench-coat and settled it on a nearby chair.

            “How did you…I saw you fell! I saw you stuck on that eyelash! _I saw you fell!_ ” Ozzie screamed at the top of his lungs, lunging out forward to punch him but was stopped by Thrax’s grip.

            “Do you really think that a false eyelash can hold me?” Thrax grinned as he subdued Ozzie and gave him a half-nelson, forcing him onto his knees. “All I had to do was increase the heat and it melted into putty just enough around my hand to pull out. Like I said, y’all makin’ this too easy.”

            So saying, he pushed the poor cell down until his face was scraping against the floor. Using the chain that was still on Ozzie’s wrist, he wounded the loose end around the foot of the bed, tying Ozzie in place. The chain was elastic but strong; no matter how much Ozzie pulled and tugged, it would not break.

            “This will have to do for now before I find a more proper restrainer,” Thrax said amusingly and sat on the bed, admiring his work.

            “You…You murderer! You killed Frank! You killed Drix and Leah! You killed everyone! I hate you!!” Ozzie shouted at him, then spat at him, hitting the virus’ sweater.

            “C’mon, baby, ain’t nothin’ to be so upset about,” Thrax didn’t sound the least bit offended by Ozzie’s actions as he wiped the spit off with his sleeve. “There are plenty of fishes in the sea. You’ll make new friends soon.”

            “When I get out of this, I swear I’ll…”

            “Kill me?” Thrax raised a brow. “Well, you almost did, I’ll give you that. You really _are_ one cell of a guy, ain’t ya, Jones? Out of all the bodies I’ve been into, you were the only person that got me all figured out. You were the first person that I had ever had to break a sweat for. You are the only person that stood against me and fought me tooth and nail. I must admit, Jones, I _am_ impressed. Although now, seems like the tables have turned.”

            “Save the compliments for someone who would actually listen to this spit, Thrax,” Ozzie growled. “What are you waiting for? If it’s killing me that you want, you might as well just get over it!”

            “After what you put me through? That’ll be too easy, baby. No, I have better plans for you. So much better.”

            With that, he flexed out his signature glowing claw and, with a flick, burned off Ozzie’s clothes that dissolved like melted cheese. He then pressed the flat side of his finger hard against the middle of the cell’s chest, its heat spreading from it all the way throughout his body. It wasn’t a searing painful heat, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. The heat soon engulfed Ozzie’s entire body from head to toe and by the time it was done, Ozzie’s body seemed to be dimly glowing like a table lamp of a night stand.

            “W-W-What are you doing to me?” Ozzie stammered, although the answer was practically screaming in his head.

            “Oh, just a mild modification to your body,” Thrax said as he kissed his claw as if in a self-congratulatory manner. “Since you’re gonna stick around with me, you might as well be physically compatible. I have partially infected you with my venom. Now, instead of having to worry about you freezing up like a popsicle every time we go outside, you can walk around with me in the atmosphere freely like me.”

            Ozzie held up his hands in front of his face, looking incredulously at the glow. He still looked basically normal; the only difference was that his membrane was glowing like neon lights with the shine of pale orange, like a very dimmed version of Thrax’s signature claw.

            “Why…Why are you doing this to me?” Ozzie demanded. “What exactly do you want from me?!”

            “Patience, baby,” Thrax chuckled in that tone that Ozzie knew spelt trouble ahead. “You’ll know soon enough. Now get some rest. We’ll be moving on to the next body in 2 days tops.”

            “I…I thought you wanted to take Shane down…”

            “She’s old news now,” Thrax kicked his boots off. “I’m no longer interested in small fries like her. Would be just as easy as taking down Frank for the likes of me anyway. ‘Sides, I got you to play with. Probably be so much more interesting than breaking records now that I have you. Oh, I am going to enjoy breaking you, Jones, you can count on it.”

            Ozzie would’ve succeeded in punching him if it weren’t for Thrax gripping his hand again, staring down at him warningly with his killer claw out until Ozzie loosened his clenched fist in defeat.

 


	2. Chapter 2

            It was a no-brainer that after killing Frank, Thrax had made it into the medical records. The dog they inhabited was watching TV together with its mistress and when Thrax went up onto the mutt’s forehead to test out Ozzie’s newly acquired ‘ability’, both of them saw the news showing on TV announcing Thrax’s existence due to Frank’s death in the hospital and all health precautions needed to be taken to prevent catching the ‘Red Death’ virus, as they called him.

            Needless to say, Thrax’s gloating over his success was no comfort to Ozzie’s already bruised and battered pride and his guilt and sorrow welling up inside him for turning Shane into an orphan and causing the death of his only best friend Drix and Leah, the love of his life.

            Later that night, as Thrax sat on the chair watching Ozzie tied to the foot of the bed as usual and drinking his coffee, he smirked as cruel amusement was written all over his face. It has been almost a day and a half since they’ve got into this canine city. Thrax had planned to leave possibly tomorrow night when the dog’s mistress’s friends come over to have a slumber party, in which he would target a suitable body to invade and destroy. Ozzie had threatened to stop him but a glowing claw pressed against his face was warning enough that it would be his fate if he tried to do anything stupid.

            “What’s so funny?” Ozzie snarled, obviously ticked off by Thrax’s facial expression and daring him to make a move.

            “Just thinking about all the things I could do to that pretty body of yours,” Thrax commented. So saying, he got up and proceeded to undo the chain on Ozzie’s wrist from the foot of the bed.

            “W…What are you doing?”

            “I need a shower right now,” Thrax replied, “and you are gonna help me clean up.”

            “You mean…You mean you want me to help you bathe?” Ozzie widened his eyes in disbelief. When Thrax gave him a devious smirk as a reply, he harshly pushed the virus away. “No way! There is no friggin’ way I’m gonna bathe you! You wanna take a Frank-damn shower, you go right ahead and take it yourself! I’m not gonna…”

            Ozzie’s last outburst was his demise. Without warning, Thrax grabbed Ozzie by the throat and slammed him down onto his lap, face down, knocking the air out of him. The virus pulled down harshly at the cell’s pants, revealing his bare buttocks and, while holding Ozzie down by the nape of the neck with one hand, reached to the bedside table with the other and took out a hairbrush.

            “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson.”

            Before Ozzie knew it, a sharp whack was heard and felt on his behind, making him gasp in pain. He tried to struggle out of his confines by Thrax held him in a death grip, with his killing claw dangerously inches away from the cell’s jugular. Blow after blow came onto his tender membrane as Thrax hit him with the brush without mercy, reducing the poor cell into tears.

            “Stop…! Stop…! Please stop…I beg you…!” Ozzie whined, begging for the pain to end.

            “You promise to be good?” Thrax asked, still giving him no quarter.

            “I…I promise…! I promise!!”

            “What must you say to me first?”

            Ozzie hesitated for a moment, his pride keeping him from saying what he knew Thrax wanted him to say. A few more whacks were all it took to loosen his tongue.

            “I’m…I’m sorry! I’m sorry, sir! I’m sorry!! Please stop!!!”

            “Good boy,” Thrax smiled in satisfaction as he discarded the hairbrush aside and stroked the swollen, throbbing membrane of Ozzie’s sore ass. “Now follow me to the bathroom. Your services are required there.”

            The virus waited until Ozzie slid slowly off his lap before making his way to the bathroom. Ozzie wanted to just remain there nursing his tender ass and fall into a messy heap of tears, but he knew he wasn’t getting any sympathy from a virus that demanded immediate attention and obedience. Sitting there like a crybaby was not going to do him any good. He wiped his face and eyes clean of his tears before slowly getting up and followed behind Thrax’s wake.

            Once they were inside the bathroom, Thrax silently gestured with a jerk of his head that Ozzie should prepare the bath. With the painful spanking as a reminder if he disobeyed, he quickly did his thing. Turning both the hot and cold water faucet on, he plugged the drain of the tub and let the water fill the tub. While waiting for it to fill, Ozzie proceeded to take off Thrax’s clothes. The huge dark trench-coat was off first, then his turtleneck sweater, in which he had to wrap his arms around the virus’ slim waist to untuck the back. He couldn’t help staring as the virus tilted his head side to side to get rid of the cricks once the sweater was off. Like his physique portrayed when he had his clothes on, he was just as slim and lithe underneath, with muscles moderately pronounced at the right places. He wasn’t exactly someone who would undergo a six-pack abs training course, but he was definitely still not someone you’d want to match strengths with. Ozzie knew it firsthand; he had fought with him head to head and he was indeed stronger than he looked.

            “Take a picture, Jones,” Thrax’s husky voice brought him back to reality, resulting to a rather flushed-looking Ozzie. “It’ll last longer.”

            Ozzie mentally slapped himself as he carried on taking off the rest of the virus’ clothes. Undoing the belt from the loops that held his pants in place, Ozzie began to imagine what other forms of punishment Thrax might incur his wrath on him. The hairbrush was one example, and it didn’t require a genius to figure out that the belt could possibly another punishment method Thrax would love to try on him. A phantom sting of the possible crack of that belt on his membrane was something he wished not to experience. Thrax could tell by the look on the cell’s face that he had pretty much figured out what he might do with the belt if he misbehaved and was genuinely amused. He sat down on the side of the tub and turned off the faucets while he allowed Ozzie to remove his boots before working on his pants. Testing the water, the virus decided that it was still not warm enough and heated it some more with his killer claw. As steam rose from the tub from Thrax’s hot claw, Ozzie wondered how many cells had he killed, how many bacteria-s and germs were under his mercy as they did his bidding, how many cities he had taken down with it.

            Finally, as the last fabric was removed from Thrax’s body, revealing him bare for the cell to see, Ozzie discovered just how small his own was compare to the man meat in front of him. It wasn’t insanely huge or anything that might scare off even the horniest she-cell available, but it was not a small fry either. It was almost perfect, with a little bit of ridges on the sides that stood out like little bumps. Any she-cell would be lining up and have a field day with this rod, that’s for sure. Ozzie couldn’t control the heat that traveled up to his cheeks as he tried hard to tear his gaze away from the member.

            Thrax chuckled as he slowly entered the tub. He watched as Ozzie just stood there listlessly, trying to scratch a non-existent itch as he waited for Thrax’s next order. He seemed to look awkward standing there not sure what to do next and probably contemplating about things that he could do to prevent from getting punished in such a humiliating manner. Oh, he was definitely enjoying his time toying with the younger cell.

            “Honestly, baby, you don’t expect to help me shower with those clothes on, do you? Take them all off, and prepare the shampoo and soap. I’ll be done soaking in a minute.”

            “Y…Yes, sir…” Ozzie replied as he went to the mirror cabinet to take out the shower gel for Thrax. He wanted to go out of the bathroom to undress but was met with a warning gaze by Thrax, so he had no choice to undress there. Removing his clothes one by one, Thrax could see that Ozzie was not too bad for a physique of an immunity cell. He might need to go to the gym to pack some more punch, but Ozzie’s physique, at the moment, was alright as it was. He wasn’t as fit as he was, but he wasn’t sickly thin either, like someone who had just enough exercise to get by, and judging by his moves when they fought on Shane’s eyeball for the hypothalamus chain, Thrax knew that Ozzie could more or less hold his own, although still not enough to overpower him. The virus held back a snort when he saw the white with red hearts boxers he was wearing, but once that was off, he saw that the cell’s manhood was satisfactory at best, and he could tell from the cell’s face that he wasn’t exactly proud of it, especially after getting a glimpse of the virus’ own member.

            Thrax soon got out of the bath and sat on a bathroom stool, waiting for Ozzie to make his move. The cell seemed hesitant.

            “Wh…Where should I start…?”

            “Start with soaping my back, Jones, and work your way there. Make sure to clean every inch of me. I want to be fresh for tomorrow.”

            Ozzie nodded and poured a generous amount of shower gel on his hand. After lathering it with water from the tub, he slowly rubbed it along Thrax’s back. He could feel the ripple of muscles on Thrax’s back and neck as he traced his fingers along it, spreading the soap and bubbles along with it. He moved up to his arms and cleaned every inch of them and again, he could feel the muscles in his biceps and triceps, slightly hard to the touch.

            “You’ve got a soft touch, baby. Any man would just throw their worries away with those wonderful hands of yours.”

            “Um…Uh, th-thanks, uh…” Ozzie was caught unaware by this, not sure whether the virus meant it as an insult or a real compliment.

            “From now on, you will refer me as ‘Master’ and you will obey all my orders. You are only to call my name when I allow it, understood?”

            “W…What…? You can’t be serious…” Ozzie’s protest was quickly met by Thrax’s venomous glare as the virus turned around to face him.

            “Is the hairbrush not enough for you, baby?”

            Ozzie knew exactly what he meant. He shrank back and shook his head.

            “No…No…I mean, I understand whatever you just said…Master.”

            “Good,” Thrax grinned and straightened himself. “Now continue.”

            Ozzie obeyed, carrying on with his soap and bubble-spreading on the virus’ chest and the rest of the body. He worked his way around Thrax’s waist, hips, thighs, legs and feet but after that, he knew he had to clean the inevitable as well.

            “Well, don’t stop,” Thrax raised a brow. “You missed a spot.”

            Ozzie stared at the man meat, not sure whether to proceed or not. He had never touched anyone else’s besides his whenever he pleasure himself over erotic wet dreams of getting it on with Leah or when he relieved himself in the toilet.

            “It won’t bite, baby. Or are you a sucker for punishment?”

            “I…I’ll do it. I will.”

            With trembling hands, he poured a little bit of shower gel on his hands, lathered it and reached to clean the virus’ member. He could literally feel the ridges on the cock and it reminded him of the dildos he saw sold at the Penis Parlour when he was still a high-school student back in the city of Frank. He didn’t think there would actually be a real one like that right in front of him in his hands right now. He tried to think of something irrelevant in particular while he continued to move on cleaning the virus’ sac and the butt area as well. He could’ve sworn the member hardened at his touch but Thrax didn’t seem to show any changes in his facial expression, so he brushed it aside as his own imagination.

            After he thought he had soaped the virus enough, he took the detachable showerhead from the tub and began rinsing the virus from head to toe, ridding him of all the shower gel on his body. When Thrax returned to the tub to soak himself again, Ozzie reluctantly joined him so that he could wash his dreadlocks. They were quite thick but surprisingly soft to the touch and quite easy to manage and clean as he shampooed them. He gestured for Thrax to lean his head out of the tub so that he could rinse it, in which Thrax complied by lying his neck against the side of the tub and Ozzie coming out of the tub to wash it off the shampoo. Once everything was done, Thrax stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist. Ozzie thought he was supposed to follow after him but was stopped by the virus.

            “Wh…What do you need, Master?” Ozzie asked tentatively.

            “I’ll take it from here. I’m sure you know how to take your own bath, don’t you? Once you’re done, go and get us something to eat from the motel cafeteria. I’m starved.”

            “Yes, Master.”

            Ozzie waited until Thrax left the bathroom before falling onto his knees on the bathroom tiled floor in relief. At least it was safe start so far. He looked at his hands that had just held the virus’ manhood. He could still feel the ridges ghosting around his palms and the feeling of his sac in his hands.

            Somehow, oddly even to his surprise, he didn’t hate it.


	3. Chapter 3

            “You want me to wear that?”

            Ozzie looked incredulously at the clothes that were laid before him on the motel bed. Thrax grinned.

            “Of course. I’m your Master, and as your Master, I insist you wear something that compliments me for tonight’s journey.”

            Ozzie picked up the shirt and studied it. Not exactly a decent-looking shirt, considering that it was some sort of flexible black fabric that only reached past his chest.

            “This is a friggin’ _girl’s_ midriffs!” Ozzie exclaimed. “You expectin’ me to go with you wearing _girl’s_ clothes?!”

            “Given your attitude, I wouldn’t put past you whining and griping like one anyway and,” Thrax flexed out his killer claw, its glow menacing and threatening, “I’d hate to punish a pretty lil’ baby like you, don’t you agree, Jones?”

            Ozzie shrank back. As much as he liked to scream his head off and protest till the cows come home, he still valued his life. He hung his head low.

            “Y-Yes, of course, Master.”

            “Good boy,” Thrax retracted his claw and patted the cell’s head, making the cell flinch. “Now put them on and throw out that ridiculous outfit you cling so much to. The slumber party is about to start.”

            Reluctantly, he nodded and made his way to the bathroom to change. Ever since Thrax burnt off his clothes to infect him with his viral DNA, Ozzie had no choice but to rely on wearing the motel’s spare shirt and pants kept in the wardrobe, which made him occasionally itch. He was glad to be rid of them now, but wasn’t exactly too thrilled to don his new ones.

            “Are you done? Don’t keep me waiting, baby. I don’t want to be late.”

            Praying to Frank that he would not look ridiculous, he quickly put on the clothes Thrax gave him. As soon as he came out of the bathroom, Thrax admired his handiwork. As suspected by Ozzie, the black shirt was a sleeveless midriff that reached just below the cell’s chest, revealing his middle. His pants were a quarter long that only ran as far as down half of Ozzie’s thighs. The only thing that contrasted was the cell’s shoes.

            “Take the shoes off. You won’t be needing them any longer.”

            “N…Not my suede-s! It cost me a fortune to…”

            Thrax’s killer claw twitched a little as a warning. It was all Ozzie needed to obey him. Sadly, he toed off the shoes and stood there forlornly, awaiting his Master’s next orders.

            “Turn around.”

            Ozzie did as he was told. The clothes were not only flexible but body-fitting as well. The pants wrapped itself just right around Ozzie’s ass, pronouncing the shape perfectly. Thrax told him to turn around again and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

            “Still missing something…” Thrax noted while playing with his hypothalamus chain he confiscated from Ozzie last night. Looking at the chain, it gave him an idea, “C’mere, baby.”

            Ozzie walked tentatively towards the virus. Impatient, the virus pulled him closer and put the chain around Ozzie’s neck. He maneuvered until the part with the hypothalamus DNA was entirely around Ozzie’s neck before using his killer claw to cut the chain, then heated up the chain to connect the loose ends on Ozzie’s neck together, fashioning a collar. He later connected the other half of the chain he cut out and fingered it again in his hand, smiling proudly.

            “Now you look absolutely stunning, baby,” Thrax commented. “That’ll do for now. Once we move into the next city, we’ll see if we could get you a leash to go with that collar.”

            Ozzie touched the hypothalamus chain that was now his collar. It felt soothingly cold around his neck, despite the fact that this was the exact DNA that regulated the temperature of the entire body. He had initially thought the DNA would be sort of warm to the touch, but he was mistaken.

            “Shall we make a move, baby?”

            As much as he didn’t like it, Ozzie had no choice but to take the virus’ hand and made their way out of their motel room into unknown territory.

\--:--

            Thrax and Ozzie blended in well with the crowd as they made their way to their intended quarters. Entering the city of Nana—that’s what one of the guests in the slumber party they leapt in was called—was surprisingly easier than expected. Nana was a sucker for man’s best friend and allowed the Pomeranian to lick her face till no end. The dumb owner of the saliva boat only needed to fall for Thrax’s compliments on his ‘wonderful vessel’ and immediately agreed to let them have a joyride. Once the mutt had its tongue all over Nana’s mouth, Thrax, holding Ozzie tight by the waist, leapt off the saliva boat and expertly glided in the air until he was able to land them both on Nana’s tongue.

            Nana was a glutton who ate anything and everything and it was her insatiable appetite that contributed to the growth of the Love Handles Community in the city, in which Thrax and Ozzie were in at the moment. Like the body, its inhabitants were just as gluttonous. Only about a handful of the city’s people were truly concerned about Nana’s health but was met infuriatingly with the majority’s contentment to stay the way it was. It couldn’t get any better than this to lay low for the virus and the cell. As much as Ozzie hated to admit it, he knew Thrax would take this city down in no time flat.

            After checking into a private chalet at the community’s six-fat hotel (posing as a rich, eccentric couple who valued their privacy) and doing a little bit of grocery shopping around the area (since everything served in the hotel was enough to clot all blood vessels of a human body), Thrax ordered Ozzie to fix dinner at the chalet kitchen. Where Thrax got the money for all this, Ozzie didn’t want to know.

            “But…But I’m not much of a cook…” Ozzie replied, which was true. If he were left alone in the kitchen for two minutes, he would have to call the fire department. This little bachelor cell was highly dependent on take-outs, and it showed.

            “Then you will learn,” Thrax replied. He eyed around the kitchen and saw a dusty-looking cookbook on the top shelf where the seasoning was supposed to be. He took it down and flung it at Ozzie. “Looks like you’re in luck. This chalet is being very accommodating. Get a move on, baby.”

            Poor Ozzie had no choice but to comply lest he wanted to be punished again. Scanning through the cookbook to see whether any of the ingredients he had fit a particular dish, the cell set to work, following the instructions to rule as he sliced, diced, chopped and cooked their dinner. Thrax, who sat at the dining room reading the newspaper, stole a look at the serious Ozzie trying his best to make a decent meal and grinned, an evil thought coming across his mind.

            “Working hard, I see?” Thrax said huskily as he came into the kitchen, taking a whiff at the food he was cooking. So far, so good.

            “I…I’m almost done, Master…” Ozzie replied hurriedly. “Just give me a few more minutes…Ah, M-M-Master, what are you doing?”

            Without warning, Thrax held Ozzie’s hands firmly onto the sides of the sink and put a glass on each of the back of his hands. He opened the bottle of cold coke they bought and poured its content into both glasses.

            “Stay still and don’t spill,” Thrax ordered, “or you’ll be punished.”

            So saying, Thrax reached to turn down the fire of the stove until it was simmering so that their dinner would not boil over. He took the coke bottle and touched the ice-cold bottom of it onto Ozzie’s cheek, making the cell tremble.

            “M…Master…it’s so cold…” Ozzie whimpered.

            “Yes, it does,” Thrax Thrax said in a low tone as he trailed the bottle along the cell’s jaw line. “Makes you feel good, doesn’t it? To feel a little bit of coldness on that warm, soft membrane of yours?”

            “P…Please stop…It’s really cold…”

            “I’m your Master and I can do whatever I want. Remember that, baby.”

            “Y…Yes, Master…Do as you will to me…”

            Thrax chuckled before removing the bottle off Ozzie’s face. He took a jar of pickles and took out one, sucking the sour-ish preserved solution off it. Ozzie wondered what he wanted to do with the pickle, but right now he had to concentrate on keeping the glasses balanced on his hands.

            “You have never been entered before, have you, Jones?”

            Ozzie looked at the virus with wide, confused eyes. What was he trying to imply on? Of course he had never been entered! He was a straight, honest-to-goodness cell who was interested in the female species! There was no way…The pickle soon became very clear to the cell as to Thrax’s intentions.

            “Answer the question, Jones,” Thrax growled impatiently.

            “N…No, Master…Never…”

            “Which means you’re more or less a virgin, ain’t ya, baby?”

            “Y…Yes, Master…” Ozzie stammered, thinking, _If_ _you mean virgin as in ‘that’ way, heck yeah!_

            “Since this is your first time, I’ll be easy on you,” Thrax said as he finished sucking and licking all the solution off the pickle. Capturing the cell’s waistband, he pulled the quarter pants down till his buttocks were showing. He then backed away to admire the perfectly-shaped ass.

            “Take off the rest of the pants yourself, baby. I want to see you move.”

            “B…But the drinks will spill…”

            “Then you’ll just have to be careful now, won’t you? Stick your butt out more. Gyrate your hips more. Move more boldly, more daringly. Make that pants fall for you.”

            Ozzie struggled to follow his orders. He could feel the glasses threatening to fall and tried to keep his hands as flat as possible while he moved his butt to work the pants off. After much struggling he managed to get the pants down all the way to his knees and let it slip down into a careless pool around his ankles. He sighed in relief as the glasses were still safely balanced on his hands, but he could feel the content of the glasses starting to trickle out from the brim.

            “Good boy,” Thrax purred as he came close to Ozzie. He sucked the pickle some more for good measure before teasing the tip of the pickle around the cell’s entrance, making the poor cell gasp in shock. He probed the hole a little before saying, “Now this will burn just a little bit, but if you remain still and be a good boy, it’ll soon feel good. Understand?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie breathed, trying to ignore Thrax’s statement about it ‘burn just a little bit’.

            Slowly, bit by bit, Thrax pushed the pickle into Ozzie’s hole. Ozzie bit his lip, trying hard not to scream out. Thrax was right; it actually had a slight burning pain for a moment but due to Ozzie’s physical structure and the saliva- (and solution-) coated pickle, it slid in quite easily and the pain disappeared as quickly as it came. Ozzie wanted to grip hard on the side of the sink but it would mean dropping the glasses. Thrax timed his thrusts with Ozzie’s labored breathing. Whenever he breathed in, Thrax would inch the pickle just a little bit deeper and when he breathed out, Thrax would pull it out but not all the way. Deeper and deeper the pickle went until it finally hit the spot that made Ozzie see stars in his mind’s eyes. Ozzie couldn’t control his body as it arched forward to this new sensation and, to his horror, made him drop both glasses onto the floor with a crash, spilling the coke everywhere.

            “I told you not to spill it, didn’t I?” Thrax warned as he stopped his ministrations. “Now you are going to be punished.”

            Ozzie trembled. He braced himself for the pull to the virus’ lap and be spanked, but somehow it never came. Instead, he heard the sound of a zipper being undone and the virus’ bark to turn around.

            “Walk on your hands and knees to me,” Thrax ordered as he pulled himself out of his opened fly. When Ozzie was close enough, he gestured at Ozzie towards his manhood. “You know what to do, don’t you, baby?”

            “I…I never done this before…” Ozzie admitted, staring at the member in trepidation.

            “Now would be a good time to practice, wouldn’t it?” Thrax smirked, then took Ozzie’s hand and made him hold his manhood. “Start off by licking it slowly. Focus on the tip first, then make your way downwards.”

            Ozzie swallowed for a moment before hesitantly sticking his tongue out to lick the tip. He flicked his tongue at the tip for a while, then started licking around it in circles, tasting a little of Thrax’s pre-cum as he went. Using his elasticity, he stretched his tongue until it wrapped around Thrax’s cock all the way to the hilt, licking every inch of it. He kept at it for a while, seeing that Thrax was purring in enjoyment and was obviously into it. After a while, the virus reached over to push Ozzie’s mouth deeper, inclining that he wanted more than just having tongue all over him. Ozzie opened his mouth wider and took in as much as he could, sucking him hard so as to please him.

            “Move your head, baby. Suck and lick at the same time. You’re doing pretty good so far.”

            Ozzie obeyed, bobbing his head in and out as he sucked, licking the hole of the head as he went. Thrax ran his claw through the cell’s hair as he growled in pleasure at the cell doing fellatio on him. It actually felt pretty good, considering that it was Ozzie’s first time doing this. The virus wondered whether Ozzie was truly as innocent as he claimed to be as Ozzie carried on, his lips sucking along the cock before putting it back in his mouth again, his fear and initial disgust over doing this sort of thing slowly dissipating. While he sucked and licked, the cell remembered that the pickle was still stuck in his anus and remembered the feeling when Thrax made the pickle hit on the spot that made him dizzy and ecstatic all over. Tentatively, he reached his hand over to the pickle and tried to copy what Thrax did to him. This time, the pickle hit it much faster and despite his mind screaming at him to stop this nonsense, his own cock came to life as Ozzie thrusts the pickle, assaulting the spot and making him moan in pleasure against his better judgment. Thrax could feel the vibration of Ozzie’s moan on his cock and saw him doing what he thought he would never do. He chuckled inwardly.

            “Starting to be bolder now, aren’t you?” Thrax asked. “As I recall, I have not given you permission to touch yourself.”

            Ozzie stopped thrusting and looked up at Thrax in fear. The virus could tell that Ozzie was trying to convey his frantic apologies through his eyes. He pushed Ozzie’s head to make him let go of his cock.

            “I’m…I’m sorry, Master…I don’t know what got into me…”

            “You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you, baby?”

            “I…No…” Ozzie looked away in denial. “That’s not true…”

            “Don’t bother denying, Jones. As your Master, I know everything that’s going in my own slave’s mind, even if you don’t know it yourself.”

            So saying, he grabbed the cell’s shoulder and pushed him to the floor. Holding down Ozzie’s face against the floor with one hand, Thrax removed the pants off the cell’s ankles and made him raise his ass, spreading his legs apart. He took hold of the pickle and started thrusting hard, hitting the spot over and over again. Ozzie let out moan after moan as the bundle of nerves within him was assaulted and sending electrical jolts all over his body and hot white flashes going in and out in his mind’s eyes. Thrax chuckled deviously as he pressed the pickle even deeper, probing against the prostate in circles and making Ozzie scream even louder. Ozzie could feel the pit of his stomach tightened and was about to lose it.

            “N…No…! Stop…! I’m…I’m going to cum…!!”

            “Not yet. This is your punishment,” Thrax pushed the pickle harder and deeper into Ozzie before releasing his hold on Ozzie. “You are not to cum without my permission. You must make me cum first.”

            Ozzie whined in protest at the loss but he had to comply with Thrax’s wishes, especially when the virus twitched his killer claw again as a warning. He got back on his knees and did his blowjob again, sucking and licking for all its worth. He tried to use his elasticity again, wrapping his tongue around the cock as he sucked to maximize his Master’s pleasure and make him cum quicker. Thrax growled again in pleasure and amusement as he watched the cell trying his best to make him cum. He picked him up and made him sit against the wall while he literally fucked his mouth.

            “Don’t worry, baby,” Thrax said as he thrust into the cell’s mouth. “I won’t make you choke. Touch yourself. I want to see you fuck and pump yourself at the same time, but do not cum.”

            A rational Ozzie would’ve downright protested against this, but now with the pickle in his ass and his cock begging for release, his aroused side couldn’t care less as he surrendered himself to this, throwing every rational thought out of the window. He took his manhood and the pickle and thrust and pumped at the same rhythm, while continuing to suck as much as he could at the virus’ man meat going in and out of his mouth. He wanted to hold back the incoming explosion within him as Thrax ordered, but the sensation was too much for him to bear, what with the pickle sending him pleasurable jolts now and again as his prostate was hit and the cock that he was masturbating throbbing painfully in his hand. His body could only hold back from the double assault for so long. Letting out a strangled and muffled scream, he lost control and climaxed all over his hand. A few moments later, Thrax followed after as he pulled out and squirted his seed all over the cell’s face. Both of them panted breathlessly as they rode out their tremors, Thrax leaning against the wall with his arms as support and Ozzie slumping against the wall, his hands fell to his sides.

            “Didn’t I tell you not to cum before me?” Thrax growled as he put himself back in and zipped his fly. “You can’t hold back, can you? Just like a woman.”

            Thrax pulled the pickle out, making the cell wince, and threw it out of the kitchen window. Whatever happens to the fate of that pickle was no longer their concern. He then picked up the pants and wiped the cum off the cell’s face.

            “Finish making my dinner and wash these pants,” Thrax ordered. “You are not to eat until I’m done. You hear me?”

            “Y…Yes, Master…” Ozzie breathed as his body slowly regained its motor skills. Slowly, he cleaned the floor of the coke and the broken glass and carried on making the dinner without his pants. He served the food on the table before making his way to wash his pants. While it dried, Ozzie sat across the table with a towel around his waist and watched as Thrax ate his dinner, hoping that it was to his satisfaction.

            “You make a pretty fine dinner, baby. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

            Ozzie lowered his head, not sure whether to thank him or just blush quietly. He didn’t think he had it in him either. Guess it’s true that desperate times make you do things you never knew you could do.

            “Grab a plate. Have a taste of your own food. You deserve that much.”

            Ozzie nodded and went quickly to the kitchen and returned with a plate. He scooped a generous amount into his plate and went to his seat before eating it. To his surprise, it actually tasted quite good.

            “Eat up, baby. We will be meeting some people later. Our plan will be in motion soon.”

\--:--

            “So, do we have a deal?”

            Ozzie looked warily at all the cells that were gathered around them while he was forced to sit on Thrax’s lap. Surprisingly, instead of approaching germs and bacteria-s to help him out with his master plan, Thrax had gone to the immunity force for help. Apparently there was quite a lot of corrupted cops in the city of Nana who wanted nothing more than to get out of this stupid, fat-infested body and move on to some place better than their sad excuse of a city, and they didn’t mind taking down the city if it meant freedom. He had arranged a secret meeting with the immunity force in a private booth at the local bar of the Love Handles Community and told them about his plans to take down the city through the hypothalamus grand heist, promising them that once his plan was complete, he will take them along with him along the ride to go to another body and to a better city. Everyone was thrilled with his charismatic promises, but Ozzie, through experience, knew that the virus had his fingers crossed behind his back.

            “Is your little pet of yours coming along with our joyride?” one of the cops asked as he eyed Ozzie from head to toe. Ozzie could tell that look was nowhere near decent.

            “He will be part of the plan, in a way,” Thrax replied. “He is the perfect example of how he managed to leave his city unscathed, so I assure you all that you will receive your dues.”

            “He’s quite the looker there,” another cop said as he slid closer towards the cell. “Is he for the taking? I wouldn’t mind having a piece of him…”

            Before the cop was able to touch Ozzie’s chin, Thrax flexed out his killer claw and slashed the hand off. The venom traveled up the poor cop’s arm and throughout the body and before he knew it, he was boiled alive, turning into a mass of red puddle on the seat he was sitting on, making the other cops cower away lest it would infect them as well.

            “This baby is mine and mine only,” Thrax growled, brandishing his killer claw threateningly at each and every one present in the private booth while holding Ozzie possessively close to him. “Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ , touches _my_ property. Do I make myself clear?”

            The cops all nodded in fear, promising profusely that they would not touch what was his. Thrax, after making sure everyone cowered in his mercy, retracted the claw and made Ozzie get off his lap and stand beside him so that he could discuss his plans a little more in-depth.

            Ozzie was not sure whether to feel relieved or afraid of what just happened.


	4. Chapter 4

            Ozzie walked slowly towards the gate entrance of the brain department, wearing his midriffs and quarter pants. This time, Thrax had got him a new pair of boots like his to compliment the clothes, so that he didn’t have to walk around barefooted all the time. As Thrax put it, he didn’t want to ‘hurt his baby’s feet’, so to speak. He took a deep breath and walked past all the cars that were moving through the security access, ignoring the drivers and passengers of the cars staring at him, some of them whistling at him in a flirtatious way. It was a no-brainer that everyone present thought he was a male hooker, especially in those scanty clothes.

            He didn’t want to do this at first. In fact he actually protested loudly against it in front of the whole group when they were deciding on using him as a distraction to get him and the main group in while the others work on making Nana look like she was catching the common cold, just as Thrax did Frank, to put off the feds. Thrax smiled and told everyone that Ozzie was just a little nervous and being modest, and assured them that he would do whatever his Master asked, but as soon as they went home to their private chalet, Ozzie knew too late that he had behaved wrongly and that he had no options to back out from this after about 5 long minutes of being spanked with the belt until he almost couldn’t walk properly.

            _Embarrass me in public and disobey me again and I will make you wish you were never born,_ Ozzie remembered him saying after reducing him into another teary, begging mess from the punishment he received, and remembered waking up briefly in the middle of the night to feel something cold and soothing rubbed on his painful bruises on his ass and a harsh bark from Thrax to ignore it and go back to sleep. Now, as he realized that his butt didn’t hurt as much as last night as he walked, he wondered if it had anything to do with his Master last night.

            “Hey there, pretty thing. Watcha doing here?” Ozzie was greeted by the security guard that was in charge of monitoring the cars that went into the brain department. His partner looked at him in disapproval.

            “Keep your eyes on the cars, Max, not on the ho-s. You there, get outta here! This is a restricted area!”

            “Aww, c’mon, Hilton,” the said Max tried to ease off his partner. “He’s just lookin’ for a good time, ain’t cha, pretty thing? ‘Sides, that was the last car. There won’t be any more cars late at night after this. You love those cars so much, be my guest,” he then turned to Ozzie and continued, “So, what can I do for you, sweet thing?”

            “I’m kinda wanna get in,” Ozzie scratched his chin nervously, “coz I got a call for a job from someone who said he worked here. I was kinda hopin’ like you guys could let me in. Y’know, gimme a clearance pass or somethin’…”

            “Outta the question, bitch!” the partner Hilton pushed Max aside before Max could say anything. “Nobody enters here unless they are personnel from the brain department. Unless you actually work here, you better beat it!”

            “Hey, c’mon, Hilton,” Max protested. “You’re scaring him. Don’t mind him, he’s just a little on the UST side, y’know, ‘unresolved sexual tension’?”

            “I am not having unresolved sexual tension!” Hilton shouted at him. “Can you take anything seriously for once?!”

            “Please, guys, just this once?” Ozzie pleaded, giving them the look he used to give the Chief or Leah whenever he wanted something desperately from them. “My boss will have my neck if I don’t meet the quota. I mean, this guy pays well…”

            “I said beat it, ho! You’re not welcomed here…”

            Ozzie suddenly let out a gasp as he fell into Hilton’s arms. Gripping hard at the older cell’s sleeves, he realized that he had totally forgotten about _that_.

            “Hey, hey, wassup with you?” Hilton tried (but not exactly trying really hard) to push Ozzie away. “Don’t think for one minute that you can just reel me in or anything!”

            “S…Sorry…I got, um, weak ankles…” Ozzie tried to give an excuse but let out another yelp as it happened again. He fell deeper into Hilton’s arms, crossing his legs as he tried to hold back his moans. _No…No more, Master…Please…_ Ozzie begged inwardly, feeling very embarrassed as it was.

            “What is that sound?” Max came close to Ozzie and looked down to see the younger cell’s crossed legs. His eyes lit up with interest and tapped Hilton’s shoulder, “Well, well, well. Would you look at that, Hilton?”

            Hilton looked towards the direction his partner was pointing and noticed an abnormal bulge between Ozzie’s legs. Pulling the cell into their security booth, they saw that Ozzie’s crotch was in a rather abnormal shape and it was actually vibrating. Max reached down to pull off Ozzie’s pants to reveal that the cell’s manhood was actually sandwiched between two little remote-controlled vibrators that were tied together with plastic string. The vibrators vibrated from slow to fast in intervals, making the poor cell squirm, the tip of his cock leaking with pre-cum. Max and Hilton looked at each other and back at Ozzie questioningly.

            “The…The client I’m meeting…We…We’ve met this morning and…and…he put it on me before he came to work…This…This is his calling card, that’s why…” Ozzie tried to explain his way out of it. Last thing he wanted was to tell them the truth and get punished—or killed—by Thrax. Besides, who would believe him anyway especially now that he gave this sort of impression to the security guards?

            The security guards looked at each other again for a few moments. Hilton jerked his head at Max to check outside, in which Max complied, looking out to see if there were any cars coming in. Seeing that there was none, he pressed the button to lock down the gate entrance and closed the door of the booth.

            “Well, we might give you a break, just this once,” Hilton said as he loosened his tie a little. “But only if you let us have our way with you first.”

            “Um…Well…” Ozzie didn’t know how to reply that. This was not part of the plan. He had not foreseen this happening.

            “Now you’re talking!” Max grinned as he clapped his partner’s back. “I’m sure your client wouldn’t mind letting us have a go on you now, would he? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

            “But it would definitely hurt you.”

            Without warning, the two security guards were grabbed by the back of their head and shoved through the controls of the booth. Both of them let out a long strangled scream as they twitched and jerked from the electrical current that surged through their whole body, literally burning them alive. It felt like eternity as Ozzie watched the poor guards shriveled into a thin frame and slumped to the floor, the smell of burnt membrane stung his nose.

            “I was right, baby,” Thrax’s voice finally reached the cell’s ears, bringing him back to focus. “You need a vibrator, and the vibrator needs you. What a perfect combination you two are.”

            “I thought you said no one is allowed to touch me,” Ozzie said grudgingly as he put on his pants.

            “I meant what I said, baby. Didn’t you see what I’ve done to those who do?”

            “You made them touch me in the first place.”

            “Aww, baby. Are you upset now? My bad,” Thrax said as he pulled Ozzie close to kiss his forehead. “You weren’t really giving much initiative to distract the guards from seeing us. I had to give you a hand. But look at the bright side, all our men have infiltrated the place, thanks to you. You did a pretty good job. Now it’s off to the hypothalamus chamber for us.”

            “Can you take off the vibrators now? Please?” Ozzie frowned as he followed Thrax to join the others who were waiting at the secret entrance into the brain centre.

            “Not yet,” Thrax said as he took out the remote control from his pocket and pushed the level up to about a quarter, making the cell wince and fall on his knees, the colour started to form around his cheeks. “I want you to enjoy it some more. I want to see how wet you can get without being able to cum. You’re still not entirely done being punished yet from last night, remember? Come now, baby. You don’t want to make them wait.”

            Ozzie gritted his teeth and struggled to get back on his feet before following behind Thrax’s wake, trying to ignore the vibration that was bringing his cock back to life again.

            “Yes, Master.”

\--:--

            Thrax and Ozzie sat on the shelf of Nana’s doll collection as they watched the obese girl slowly slipped away. The mission, as Thrax would put it, was a success. After the immunity force radioed in to tell that they have succeeded in diverting the feds to pay attention on the common cold symptoms, Thrax and his team moved on to do their hypothalamus grand heist. While the team subdued the securities and knocked out the mayor and his aide, Thrax and Ozzie made their way to the hypothalamus chamber. The virus got rid of the professors there with ease and Ozzie was told to stand back and watch while Thrax broke the barrier and extracted the hypothalamus DNA from the huge rotating chromosome. Ozzie was fascinated and terrified at the same time, watching firsthand how Thrax was able to do what he had done to Frank. Putting the DNA into his chain, he slashed the immunity cells that came to report in their progress into half and made his getaway, carrying Ozzie with him. Before they knew they were betrayed, Thrax had already jumped out of the window with Ozzie and deserted them at the brain centre, gliding away towards the mouth area.

            Because most of the immunity was either stuck at the brain centre being arrested or at the common cold sites, there was not enough backup to give chase after Thrax and Ozzie. Thrax, using his killer claw to scrape against the uvula floorboard, took Ozzie tight in his arms and braced for the impact as the irritation he created from the scrape forced Nana to cough them out. They rode with the wind and glided to the nearest spot they could get before they sat there and watched as the inhabitants of the city of Nana crumbled and burned away along with her. Ozzie saw the medicine bottle for coughs and colds and a wet towel put across her forehead, but he knew it would not do her any good.

            There was going to be tears the next morning. Thrax made sure of that.

            “A job well done, ain’t it, baby?”

            “Um…Yeah…” Ozzie muttered. He would’ve felt bad for Nana if it weren’t for the thing between his legs that was briefly forgotten because of the excitement.

            “What is it, baby? Something bothering you?” Thrax turned to him and saw the perplexed way Ozzie hugged his legs close to his chest, his breathing erratic. “Oh, I see. We almost forgot about that one, didn’t we?”

            So saying, Thrax took out the remote control he still kept in his pocket and upped the vibration level a notch, making Ozzie yelp as he arched his back to the sensation.

            “Let me see how wet have you become. Spread your legs for me.”

            Ozzie, trembling as he went, sat with his legs spread in front of Thrax. There was quite a big wet patch where his crotch was supposed to be and as the vibrator carried on its ministrations on Ozzie’s manhood, it got even bigger, totally drenched with his pre-cum.

            “No…No more…Master, please…I can’t…”

            “That’s not exactly my problem, isn’t it, Jones?” Thrax chuckled as he turned off the vibrator. “You’ll have to cum alone on this.”

            Ozzie couldn’t suppress the pout that formed on his lips over Thrax’s meanness.

            “Do it for me, baby. Cum for me as I watch.”

            Ozzie obeyed. He took off his pants and untied the tight string around his cock and removed the vibrators that held his release captive. Thanks to his partially infected body, the glow around his membrane made him very visible for the virus to see. He could feel Thrax’s yellow eyes bore into him as he reached his hand tentatively towards his own member and started pumping. Ozzie tried to suppress his moans by biting on his finger as he masturbated, but Thrax reached out his claw and pulled it out of his mouth.

            “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you scream. Scream my name as you cum, baby.”

            Ozzie finally let go of himself, moaning and groaning as he continued pumping himself into a frenzy. His breathing became more and more erratic as he could feel himself coming close to the edge. The inner explosion was just dying to come out since he had the vibrator on when he was distracting the guards at the brain centre and he knew it wouldn’t be long till he lost control. Thrax mischievously nudged his sac a little with the flat side of his normal claw to tease him and he was done for. Screaming out Thrax’s name, his seed exploded all over his hand and stomach, his body arching in an almost impossible angle as he rode out the tremors before finally slumping onto the flat ground beneath him, gasping breathlessly. Thrax leaned forward to lick the cum that was on the cell’s hand.

            “You did well, baby. If only you could see yourself now. You look so sexy.”

            Ozzie could barely hear the last words as he fell into slumber from the afterglow.


	5. Chapter 5

            “Wake up, Jones. Wake up.”

            Ozzie fluttered his eyes open, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He saw Thrax’s trench-coat covering him like a blanket and looked up to see Thrax facing him in a very solemn way.

            “Put on the coat. I can’t have you walking around with soiled pants, but you will wash it once we get to a new place.”

            “Wh…Where are we going, Master?” Ozzie asked as he did as he was told.

            “Out of here. They are going to quarantine this place.”

            So saying, Ozzie saw people wearing protective suits coming in to carry the already dead Nana off the bed and out of the house while trying to calm down the grieving mother. Once they started arming themselves with disinfectant tanks and spraying nozzles, the duo took it as a cue to leave.

            Carrying Ozzie over his shoulders, Thrax, using his claws, climbed up the wall to reach to higher ground as the people in suits sprayed every nook and cranny of the room. The virus saw a tiny crack up in the ceiling and made his way there as quickly as he could, praying that he could make it on time. The disinfectant spray barely nicked him on the shoes as he hauled Ozzie into the crack before climbing in after him.

            “That was a close one,” Thrax sighed in relief as he rotated his shoulders to remove the cricks. Ozzie automatically went up to him to help him massage the area.

            “Where should we go now, Master?”

            “Patience. In a place like this, our ride is bound to show up.”

            Ozzie didn’t know what he meant, but him being the experienced traveler, he decided to trust his words. As they sat there waiting, Thrax ran his claws through the cell’s hair, stroking it like he was a pet. Ozzie fingered his collar and tried his luck asking the thing he had been dying to ask.

            “Why me, Master?”

            “Hmm?” Thrax hummed, his hand still stroking Ozzie’s hair.

            “Why me? Of all the cells in Frank you could’ve taken along with, why me?”

            “I’ve told you why.”

            “Even so, why did you even bother taking me anyway? You could’ve just flown away as soon as you escaped from the falsie. You could’ve just left me stranded there on Shane and left me to my fate. Why did you…?”

            His question was muffled by a pair of lips capturing his. He wanted to pull back from it but Thrax held him firmly, his tongue tracing along the cell’s lips, urging him to open up and let him in. Reluctantly he did, feeling the virus’ tongue invading his mouth, engaging him in a slow tongue dance. Ozzie tried to copy him, thinking that was what he wanted him to do. Before he knew it, Ozzie melted into that passionate kiss, allowing himself to drown into this warm and fuzzy emotion. By the time the virus released his oral hold on him, Ozzie’s lips were swollen red and his cheeks a bright crimson.

            “You will understand sooner or later.”

            “What do you mean…”

            “Our ride is here.”

            Ozzie looked towards the direction Thrax was looking, his question momentarily put on hold. Scurrying towards them in tiny pattering footsteps was a huge common house rat. Its black oily fur shone as it caught the light that came in through the cracks of the ceiling floor as it moved in its deliberately slow and cautious way. Again, Thrax hoisted Ozzie up his shoulders and stood at the ready.

            “Hang on tight, baby. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

            Ozzie rolled his eyes. _Great,_ he thought, _Avoid_ _the question now, will ya?_

            Thrax timed his movements right: he waited for the rat to stop momentarily in front of him, made a high jump, landing right on the rat’s tail, and held onto it tight. Once the rat came out of the ceiling, down the drain and stopped at the nearest trashcan to feed, Thrax put Ozzie down and made him run after him to enter the rat’s body through the rat’s ear.

\--:--

            Compared to this city, Ozzie would prefer being in the dog’s body instead. It was a total dumpsite with filth everywhere they went. The inhabitants of the city were crude and primitive and didn’t take lightly to strangers or visitors. If it weren’t for Thrax’s killer claw, they would’ve been shredded alive by them.

            With his killer claw armed, Thrax approached one of the more articulate cells to take them to whoever was in charge of running the city. The cell, who looked like he had a severe case of a bad hair day, led them to the brain centre, which was heavily guarded, and took them to what seemed like the mayor’s office. The chair had its back facing them, so before the cell could introduce them to whoever sat on that chair, Thrax boldly stepped up and greeted.

            “Hey, baby. How’s it hangin’?”

            The chair spun round to reveal not a brain cell, but a virus who had black skin and white dreadlocks combed to one side. When he smiled, he had fangs like a vampire and he stood almost as tall as Thrax. He was wearing a grunge outfit with piercings on his left eye, his nose and one side of his lips. He gave a high-five with his black claws at Thrax while holding a leash that was connected to a collar around a brain cell’s neck. The brain cell himself looked just as crude and ugly as their escort.

            “Hey there, Thrax my man! You’re lookin’ fine today!”

            “How long did it take you to subdue the mayor?” Thrax pointed at the brain cell who was crouching next to the office table glaring at them with a vengeance.

            Ozzie widened his eyes at this, thinking in disbelief, That _is the_ mayor _?!_

“In one day’s flat,” the black virus replied. “I tell ya, these rat cities are so easy to play with. Give ‘em a bit of the shaking up and they’ll lick your boots just to stay alive,” the black virus shifted his gaze to Ozzie, “and who’s this fine-looking pretty thing here?”

            “My pet,” Thrax replied, holding Ozzie close to him. “The name’s Osmosis Jones, but you can call him Ozzie. His friends call him that.”

            “Which rat did you spring him from?”

            “I’m done doing rats, remember? This baby here is from a real human city. The City of Downtown Frank, as a matter of fact.”

            “No way!” the black virus exclaimed in awe. “Get out! C’mon, you’re spittin’ me!”

            “Nope,” Thrax shook his head proudly. “He’s from the city that finally got me recognized in the medical books. In fact, we just done crashing our last victim there in that dingy home your body was living off in.”

            “You mean that fat ass Nana who always leaves crumbs on the bed for my body’s midnight snack? Far out!” the black virus grinned, then held out his hand to offer it to shake with Ozzie’s, “The name’s Cox. Pure-bred son of Thalos of the Black Death. Nice to meet cha!”

            Ozzie waited for Thrax to allow him to shake his hand before doing so, “Hi. Osmosis Jones. Immunity cell.”

            “Wicked! You’re from the feds?” Cox rubbed his chin with interest as he circled around Ozzie, admiring him. “You’re too pretty to be a cop. Is he for sharing?”

            “No,” Thrax gave him a warning glare. “You may be my half-strain cousin but he is off limits.”

            “OK, OK, chill,” Cox held up his hands in surrender, then leaned near Ozzie a little and muttered, “Got that streak from his mother. I swear Dengue Fever viruses are the most possessive lovers ever. Drove his father mad, she did.”

            “You done revealing my family’s skeletons now?” Thrax growled as he pulled Ozzie close until he was behind him. “Do we get to bunk in or what? Where’s your next stop?”

            “Somewhere in Buffalo. I heard Serione is there. We might get there in about 3 days tops, if we take the sewage area and swim along the current through the underground. In the meantime, you can take the guesthouse at the Cornea Central. Great view from there.”

            “Alright. I’ll have your escort take me there. Don’t wanna bother your quality time with _your_ pet.”

            “Cool. You know where it is, don’t cha, Finn?” Cox looked at the bad-hair-day escort, in which he nodded. He then turned to Thrax and said, “Hey, Thrax my man. Wanna join us for lunch later? Majah and the kids hadn’t seen you in years!”

            “I’ll give it a rain check.”

            Once Thrax’s back was turned, Cox winked flirtatiously at Ozzie, making the cell look away in disgust and followed after Thrax quietly with only one thought in mind.

            _Are_ _all Thrax’s extended family that bizarre??_

\--:--

            Ozzie came out of the laundry room with only a towel around his waist, carrying the washing. Surprisingly, the guesthouse Cox offered them was a huge contrast compared to its outside surroundings. It wasn’t exactly immaculate or six-star hotel perfect, but it was at least livable rather than the other houses they’ve passed by to get there that looked like it was a septic factory of sorts. As he hung the clothes to dry in one of the empty rooms (because the smell outside was not exactly the best place for drying out the laundry) and dragged in the heater to face them so it would dry faster, Thrax approached the cell while putting on his new clean clothes.

            “C’mere, baby. Help me fix my clothes.”

            Ozzie immediately tended to him. He could only assume that Thrax was wearing clothes that were already there in the guesthouse wardrobe for any visitors of the extended family who came to stay. Ozzie tried to hide a smile as he helped Thrax to button and tuck in the long-sleeved white shirt and fixed his collar and belted up the black pressed pants. Thrax did not look good in white, but he wasn’t entirely that bad-looking either. Thrax ordered Ozzie to undo a few of his buttons to show off his chest so that he would not look like some school boy fresh out of college.

            “You’re going to your cousin’s lunch, Master?” Ozzie asked.

            “As much as I don’t want to, I have to,” Thrax rolled his eyes in contempt. “Or Cox will make me suffer the guilt of an ingrate. He enjoys doing that.”

            “How did you know he was here in this body?”

            “I don’t. It’s more of luck, really. Many of my extended families are spread out in a lot of rats’ bodies across the globe, with only a few hundred thousand that are not occupied and run by them, especially the mice category. I just had a feeling that I might just meet someone I know here.”

            “He said your mother is a Dengue Fever virus. Is that where you get your heat signature from?”

            “Technically yes. You can say I’m a mutated strain from their combined DNA. I inherited certain features from both of them, yet I do not produce the same viral symptoms of either of them. It’s like I’m an entirely independent virus born of their strain. Happens rarely, about one in every 1,000 generations of the virus strain. Pretty unique, ain’t it?”

            “Um…Yeah, I guess,” Ozzie replied as he finished helping Thrax to put his shoes on.

            “What’s the matter, baby? Why the sudden interest in my family tree?” Thrax smirked devilishly at the cell.

            “Nothing important,” Ozzie looked away, his cheeks a little red. “Just curious, is all. Am I not coming along with you?”

            “No. I know Cox. He may already have a wife and children, but his sexuality is diverse and abundant. In other words, he shags anything that moves. His wife is just as bad as he is. You are my property, remember? No one is to touch what is mine.”

            “Yes, Master.”

            “Cox’s taste in clothes is a disaster,” Thrax grimaced at his clothes, “but I guess it’ll make do. You, on the other hand, are not allowed to wear anything from here. None of them suits you, and I will not have my pet be anything less.”

            “But…But what should I wear? The clothes are not going to dry that quickly, and I can’t exactly walk around in a towel all day.”

            Thrax tapped his chin and looked around. He went to the wardrobe and scanned through the clothes that were there, imagining them on Ozzie only to shake his head in disapproval. He was about to go to the coat closet to find something decent to put on for his pet when he spied at the corner of his eye something hanging on the kitchen door. He turned around to see that it was a kitchen apron that bore a lot of frills along the shoulder sleeves and the bottom part of the apron, looking like it was one of those accessory clothing that were part of a maid’s outfit. Thrax smirked and took the apron down, flinging it at Ozzie.

            “Put this on then,” Thrax said casually.

            “T…This?? Master, this is worse than walking around with the towel on! You can’t possibly…”

            “Am I sensing a little punishment time here?”

            Ozzie bit his lip. Thrax had his belt on and he knew that if he said another word, it’ll be a week before he’ll be able to sit down properly. Quietly, he put on the apron and tied the lace behind his back before removing the towel around him.

            “Now, was that so bad?” Thrax asked as he tickled Ozzie’s chin. “You’re allowed to wear your clothes again once it’s dry, but when I come home, I expect to see that apron still on you, you hear me?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied. In other words, regardless if he had his clothes on or not, Thrax had intended him to look like a maid today.

            “I’ll be back soon, alright, baby?”

            Ozzie nodded as Thrax gave the cell a peck on the forehead. Ozzie sent his master off and waited until he shut the door before he touched the part Thrax kissed. The same feeling he had when he held Thrax’s manhood for the first time surfaced inside his heart again, making him feel like there was a lump in his chest.

            _Why?_ Ozzie thought to himself. _Why can’t I hate it anymore…?_

\--:--

            One and a half hour later, Ozzie was still in his apron with no clothes underneath. The heater was not exactly doing its job of drying the clothes and the cell predicted that it’ll be probably another hour before the clothes dried entirely.

            Suddenly he heard the doorbell rang. He went to the door and asked from the inside.

            “Who is it?”

            “Delivery from Mr. Cox to Mr. Ozzie,” a raspy voice from the other side of the door replied.

            Ozzie was surprised and nervous. It sounded like Finn who led them to meet Cox earlier. Why would he be delivering something to him? Why would he even want to send something at a time when he was almost naked for the whole world to see?!

            “Just leave it outside. I’ll take it from there. I’m a little…busy right now.”

            “Mr. Cox’s orders to send delivery directly to Mr. Ozzie personally.”

            Ozzie was at wit’s end. How was he going to show himself outside like this? If he didn’t take the delivery off Finn’s hands, he would offend Cox and indirectly embarrass Thrax, but if he _did_ take the delivery, he would be showing himself off to Finn without Thrax’s permission and if Thrax caught wind of it, he’d get punished as well. It was a lose-lose situation for him either way.

            _Damn it, damn it, Frank-dammit!_ Ozzie scratched his head exasperatedly. _Why of all times, you had to come now?! What should I do? What should I do?!_

            “Mr. Ozzie?” Finn’s voice sounded impatient.

            _Maybe…Maybe I can just stick my head and hand out. Don’t open the door all the way. Yeah, that should work…_

            “Coming,” Ozzie replied out loud and decided to stick with the game plan. Unlocking the door, he tried to stick his head and hand out only to get the delivery but his plan backfired when Finn pushed the door harshly open all the way and shoved the delivery impatiently to him. In a split second, Finn realized what he was seeing.

            “Well, I didn’t know you were _that_ busy.”

            “Uh, um, well, it’s laundry day, so…Uh, thanks anyway,” Ozzie wanted to close the door but was blocked by the crude cell.

            “What’s the hurry? Don’t I get any tips for delivery services?”

            “Um, well, my Master’s the one who holds the cash, so you can just get it from him…”

            “Oh, I’ll take the tip dangling in front of me right now,” Finn grinned as he slammed the door shut and locked it, advancing towards Ozzie with a wicked grin.

            “Don’t…Don’t you dare!” Ozzie shouted as he backed away. “You better get out or I’ll…”

            “Or you’ll what? You’re miles away from your Master and everyone else, and frankly, ho, they don’t give a damn.”

            Without warning, Finn pounced onto Ozzie, a hungry, lustful look strewn across his face. Ozzie tried to fight, and succeeded in landing a few punches and kicks on the cell, but Finn had the upper hand when his strength suddenly increased when he flexed out his claws and sharp spikes tore through the back of his shirt. His eyes turned from dark green to bright yellow as he bared out his razor-sharp teeth and clamped down on Ozzie’s neck, not exactly biting down but it still stung to the touch. Subduing him, Finn, without the courtesy of preparation or lube, zipped down his fly and thrust deep into Ozzie.

            As Ozzie felt like he was being torn apart again and again, the only name he could scream out for help was his Master.


	6. Chapter 6

            Ozzie came to at the indistinctive sounds mumbled at his ear. He opened his eyes a little to see his Master Thrax looking down at him with his hand patting his face. He felt something wet under him and looked down to his lower half of his body blankly to see that he was lying on a pool of his own saline blood and something foreign-looking…Ozzie’s eyes welled up as the horrifying memory hit him like a ton of bricks.

            “Please…Please, Master…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…Don’t punish me…” Ozzie begged, his tears flowing out like rain.

            “Quiet!” Thrax growled, forcing Ozzie’s wails to a whimper. “Tell me, who has touched you?”

            Ozzie sobbed terribly. How could he tell him that it was by the man who was sent by his cousin? He would never believe him.

            “Answer me, Jones! Who has touched you?!”

            “F-F-Finn…! Finn touched me…!” Ozzie blurted out, his breath coming in short gasps as his sobs got worse.

            “What the hell is he doing here? Did you seduce him?”

            “Wh-What…? No, I…”

            “Don’t lie to me, bitch! I saw him giving you a few looks when we were at Cox’s office! You led him on, didn’t you? You flirted with him secretly behind my back and invited him here, didn’t you?!”

            “I didn’t…I swear…”

            “Why else would he be here? Why else would he come just when I left you alone here…”

            “I DID NOT SEDUCE HIM!!!” Ozzie, upset by that accusation, snapped as he screamed at the top of his lungs, frustratingly slamming his fists onto Thrax’s chest in his tears. “I did not friggin’ SEDUCE him! He came here himself, bringing your stupid cousin’s delivery and saw me in this stupid apron you made me wear and he friggin’ RAPED me!! HE RAPED ME, FRANK-DAMMIT!!! It’s all YOUR FAULT!! All your friggin’…”

            Ozzie got the wind knocked out of him when Thrax held him tightly close to his chest. In the midst of his tears, Ozzie could’ve sworn he felt the arms around him trembling.

            “Don’t raise your voice at me, Jones. Don’t you dare raise your voice at me…” Thrax’s voice sounded a little choked, but then again, it could be him hearing things.

            “I’m sorry, Master…I’m sorry…”

            “You’re infected.”

            “What…?” Ozzie looked up at him in shock.

            “That damn cell that touched you breeds just like a rat,” Thrax said in disgust. “He’s infected you with his seed.”

            Ozzie started hyperventilating at upon hearing the news. Infected with Finn’s seed?! Which means he was…pregnant?! How could this happen to him? How could Finn do this to him? Didn’t he even have the courtesy to pull out?! Those were the things that went through his mind as he was breathing like the oxygen had just left the building.

            “Calm down, Jones,” Thrax ordered, but seeing that Ozzie wasn’t listening, he cupped the cell’s cheeks and pulled him face to face, “Baby, baby, look at me. Look at me!”

            Thrax’s harsh bark brought Ozzie back to focus as he stared into the virus’ eyes tearfully, his breathing still quick but not as bad as before.

            “Listen. I will not have my pet carrying a spawn from that filth. I will deal with the son of a bitch later, but now I must get rid of it, but it will be very painful. Can you handle it?”

            “H…How painful can it be?”

            “Very. I won’t lie to you. It’ll hurt like hell. But I must do it. Can you handle it?”

            Ozzie averted his gaze, not sure whether to go through with it.

            “Do you trust me?”

            Ozzie looked at Thrax’s eyes again and was surprised that they were showing signs—though not very obvious—of pleading and concern. Ozzie swallowed nervously as his heart gave in to those eyes.

            “You are my Master. I trust you.”

            “Good boy.”

            Thrax made Ozzie lie down back on the floor before he undid the apron Ozzie was wearing and pulled the lower side up till the cell’s lower half was revealed all the way. Ozzie looked at his middle and could see something the size of a marble forming there, finally knowing the full scale of what Thrax meant by ‘infected’. Thrax crumpled one end of the pulled up apron and stuffed it into Ozzie’s mouth.

            “So that you don’t bite your tongue. Be prepared. I’m going to do it now.”

            So saying, Thrax held his own clenched fist with the other hand and rammed it against Ozzie’s middle. Ozzie let out a muffled scream, almost inhaling the apron as the wind was knocked out of him again. Thrax stopped for a few seconds before ramming down again, making the poor cell scream again as he bit down hard onto the apron to bear the pain. The virus kept at it for about 15 seconds (which felt like eternity) until Ozzie thought he felt something pop inside him and something wet and slimy flowed out between his legs.

            “It’s over, baby,” Thrax said as he picked Ozzie up in his arms again. “It’s over now. Your body will take care of the rest.”

            Ozzie stole a look at his nether regions and realized that Finn’s spawn came out not from his ass, but from a sort of birth canal that mysteriously formed between his sac and anus, possibly due to the viral DNA he was partially infected with that modified his body. He winced a little as something contracted within him to squeeze the rest of the broken spawn out. After the hurting stopped, Ozzie tried to pry away from Thrax.

            “Where are you going?”

            “I…need to clean up…” Ozzie replied mechanically. “Need to…clean up this mess…for you…”

            “No,” Thrax said as he picked Ozzie up bridal style to stop him from going anywhere. “You are going to take a bath, lie down on bed and rest. Your Master will do this for you just this once, baby.”

            Ozzie knew he was in no position to argue. In fact, he lacked the strength to retaliate him. He just allowed Thrax to take him to the bathroom, be scrubbed raw from head to toe to get rid of the smell of sex, be dried and dressed with one of the night robes that Thrax found in the wardrobe and be tucked into bed. As he was lulled to sleep by Thrax stroking his hair, he distinctively heard Thrax whispered something to his ear.

            “He will pay, baby. He will pay.”

\--:--

            “I come here as a guest and this is how you treat me?!”

            “Hey, hey, chill, Thrax my man. Let’s not be hasty…”

            “Hasty? I’ll show you hasty, you son of a bitch!!”

            Ozzie was sort of rudely awoken by shouting voices outside the room. Wincing from the bruise he probably got from the blow Thrax gave him to abort the spawn, he slowly got off the bed and, holding his middle, moved towards the door and peeked down from the banister of the staircase.

            Downstairs, he could see Thrax yelling curses and threats at Cox who was holding Finn’s hair in a death grip. Ozzie could only assume that Thrax had called Cox in to complain about the matter and ordered him to bring the crude cell along with him. Finn was trying to struggle his way free but winced when Cox’s grip tightened, threatening to scalp him. He had no choice but to stay still and hoped he’d stay alive after this ordeal. The mayor was there as well, but was tied by the leash to the pole at the entrance of the living room.

            “I didn’t know he would do this, Thrax my man, honest,” Cox tried to calm his fuming half-strain cousin down. “I just thought that maybe your pet might be hungry, since you didn’t bring him along for lunch, so I wanted Finn to pass some of what we had to him to surprise him…”

            “You could’ve just passed it to me, you idiot! I told you my pet was off limits! Only I alone can manhandle him! And now the only surprise you gave was him your stupid lackey who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants! He came here and friggin’ knocked my pet up! You know how hard it is for me to hurt my pet just to squeeze his spawn out?!”

            “Oh my…” Cox was genuinely shocked at this. “I swear I didn’t…” he growled at Finn and pulled him up by the hair, “See what you’ve done, Finn?! See how you hurt my family?! Didn’t I tell you to just send the food directly to Ozzie and nothing else?! Did I tell you that you could go around spreading your spawn everywhere, especially when you’ve already heard my cousin said before that Ozzie is off limits?!”

            “I’m sorry, sir~! I didn’t mean it~!” Finn begged for mercy. “It’s just that…he was nicely dressed…I dunno what got into me! I promise I won’t do it again! I swear~!”

            “You sure as hell won’t,” Thrax snarled as he flexed out his killer claw. “I will make sure you won’t ever function as a cell no longer.”

            Ozzie knew what that tone meant. He had to step in before the poor cell got killed. Finn may have done him wrong, but that didn’t exactly make him deserve a death warrant.

            “Guys, guys, chill,” Ozzie rushed down the stairs and held out his hands to stop the viruses. “No need to be so harsh about this. He’s already sorry and all…”

            “You stay away from this, Jones!” Thrax growled. “You’re supposed to be resting! Go back to bed!”

            “Thra…I mean, Master, please. You don’t have to do this…”

            “This the guy who raped you?” Cox asked, shoving Finn’s head to face Ozzie.

            “Well, yeah, but…”

            “Why would you want to let him live?” Thrax demanded.

            “Look, it’s all over, alright?” Ozzie tried to talk things through. “The spawn is gone now. He’s scared spit-less and he’s genuinely sorry…”

            “I don’t think you understand how things work here in rat city, pretty,” Cox chuckled as he shook his head at Ozzie’s naivety. “People here in rat city are never truly sorry for what they’ve done. It’s fear that governs this city, no compassion. There is none of the sort here. It’s all about survival for the fittest. You let him go now, I guarantee you he’s gonna have a go at you again, trust me.”

            “But…”

            “And we of the Black Death family demands retribution,” Thrax said darkly. “It is how we work around here. Don’t question our methods, baby. Now, since you’re here, you might as well watch what people who wronged us end up.”

            As if in cue, Coz made Finn kneel in front of Ozzie by pushing him to his knees by the hair. Ozzie watched Finn looked at Ozzie with teary, pleading eyes as Thrax poked him with the tip of his killer claw. The venom travelled torturously slow throughout his whole body, turning him from the usual blue to a fiery red. Ozzie stood there helplessly as Finn’s moans and groans escalated into screams of agony as his membrane broke bit by bit, the infected saline blood oozing out of his body. He started bursting everywhere and even his eyes popped as he died a much slower death than the immunity cell who tried to hit on him when they were still in the city of Nana. In the end, just like the immunity cell, Finn melted into a pile of red goo on the floor, leaving Cox still holding onto his huge clump of hair. Cox dropped the hair carelessly onto the floor and released the mayor from the pole. The mayor bounded happily towards the pile of goo and lapped at it hungrily, much to the disgust of Ozzie.

            “I am so, so sorry about everything, Ozzie,” Cox patted Ozzie’s head, his full of remorse. “If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, just tell good ol’ Cox here, aye? You are just as much of the Black Death family as we are now. Don’t hesitate to ask, OK, pretty?”

            “I think my baby has enough excitement for one day,” Thrax said grudgingly as he slapped Cox’s hand away. “Just get us to Buffalo ASAP.”

            “Anything for you, Thrax my man,” Cox nodded, then pulled at the leash of the mayor, “You done stuffing yourself? C’mon, let’s get going.”

            The mayor licked his lips and sucked his fingers off the goo he just gorged himself with and followed Cox’s lead. Ozzie thought he almost forgot to breathe as he felt his heart thumping against his chest. Quietly, he went to get a rag and wiped off the rest of the goo the mayor did not finish.

            “You were supposed to be resting, baby,” Thrax said as he took the rag away from Ozzie’s hand and burnt it off with his killer claw in a split second.

            “You didn’t have to do that,” Ozzie muttered, but Thrax still heard him.

            “Do what?”

            “Finn. You didn’t have to kill him.”

            “You want him to have a go on you again, just like Cox said he would?”

            “Well, no, but…”

            “Lemme tell you something about how the family runs things around here, baby,” Thrax picked Ozzie harshly by the waist and held onto the cell’s chin tight to face him. “We are killers, that you know as much. We are killers that demand eye for an eye. Anyone who hurts the member of the family will be dead, no questions asked. It’s better to eradicate one mistake to stop a thousand more. That’s how we survive, baby. That’s how we manage to live this long: by eliminating the competition and minimizing the enemy count. You saw how pathetic this city is. If you let that Finn go, what are you going to do if he brings along a whole bunch of other cells and have a gangbang with you, especially if I am not there to save you?”

            Ozzie looked down, not sure what to say. As crude as Thrax put it, he knew he was right in a way. There was no telling that Finn would be thankful for Ozzie’s compassion. Heck, it might even hurt the crude cell’s ego by letting him. If the people in rat city were as bad as Cox put it, he would bound to exact revenge on Ozzie rather than leave him alone.

            “Don’t look so down, baby. Big Daddy Thrax is gonna take good care of you, provided you be a good boy yourself. You are my little good boy, aren’t you, baby?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied tiredly. “I’ll be good.”

            “That’s my little baby,” Thrax purred as he took Ozzie’s lips and gave him a passionate kiss, in which Ozzie eased into it as if it was the most natural thing. He picked him up bridal style again and carried him all the way back to bed. Putting him down, he tucked him in and lay down beside him, stroking his hair and humming a soft jazz tune, lulling him to sleep.

            “Does Cox mean it, Master?” Ozzie asked with his eyes closed. “Me being family?”

            “Cox may say a lot of things,” Thrax said, “but he would never lie about family. Looks like you’ve earned the Black Death family’s approval. Welcome to the clan, baby.”

            “Um…Yeah, thanks…”

            “Now go to sleep. Not another peep from you, baby.”

            Ozzie was as good as gold as he let Thrax continue to lull him to sleep, but not before acknowledging secretly an odd sense of belonging to this lifestyle.


	7. Chapter 7

            During the journey to Buffalo, Ozzie was not allowed to leave the bed or do any menial tasks. Thrax insisted that he rest after the forced miscarriage he gave him and made him wrap an ice pack everyday on the bruise around his middle to heal quicker. Cox offered to provide food for Ozzie’s recovery and his children Tiki, Miki, Viki and Kiki were in charge of sending it to him—since Thrax didn’t want to trust anyone else that had to do with rat city—and keeping the cell company at the same time.

            “So, Dad told us you’re from the immunity force,” Tiki said one day during their lunch delivery. “Is it true?”

            “You bet I was. I was the baddest booty-shakin’ cop in all of Downtown Frank,” Ozzie replied as he opened the food container. Looking in, he saw today’s lunch was some sort of greenish-yellow blob that looked like it was regurgitation from last week. Grimacing, he poked at it with a spoon, not sure whether to eat it for the sake of the kids or just chuck it out of the window.

            “That means you must’ve caught a lot of bad guys back in your city,” Viki said, pouring Ozzie’s drink in a cup. It looked and smelled like coffee, so Ozzie took comfort in that, although it felt a little ironic that Viki mentioned him catching ‘bad guys’ when the kids’ parents and half-strain uncle were literally the ‘bad guys’ themselves. He knew whatever he was going to say next was pushing it, but since there was no one he knew around to debunk him, a little bragging wouldn’t hurt.

            “Yup. The force practically begged me to take their case off their hands, and I had to handle everything big and small. They even called me ‘The Germ-inator’!”

            “Wow~! ‘The Germ-inator’? That sounds really cool!” Miki looked at Ozzie admiringly.

            “You ain’t heard nothin’ yet! I once took down a whole team of bacteria-s with my bare hands. They ain’t even from Frank’s body, like some el loco germ or something. I’ve got connections from the Flu Shot Virus all the way to the Hepatitis Vaccine Bros lining up to spare me some inside info. Heck, I had to beat the ladies off with a stick just to get a little me-time…”

            “Then how come you ended up being Uncle Thrax’s pet?” Kiki asked with a skeptical look.

            “Uh, well, um…” Ozzie had not expected that coming. “Well, it’s a little bit of a long story, really…”

            “But the gist of it is that our little Ozzie is crazy about me.”

            “Hi, Uncle Thrax!”

            Ozzie looked up grudgingly at the virus who came in at the nick of time. He patted each kid on the head and sat on the bed right beside Ozzie, kissing the cell’s forehead.

            “Is it really?” Miki asked. “Were you really crazy about Uncle Thrax?”

            “Um, well, I wouldn’t put it that way…” Ozzie tried to worm his way out of it but Thrax chuckled and ruffled Ozzie’s hair.

            “Aww, c’mon, baby, you don’t have to be shy about it. I mean, it was practically love at first sight when we met at the nasal dam.”

            “He pursued you?” Kiki asked, eager to hear more.

            “In a way, yes. He tracked me down all the way to The Zit Club to get a glimpse of me, yet he was so shy he had to bring along a friend to accompany him. I swear, baby, that cold pill friend of yours wasn’t exactly very helpful. In the end, you literally blew me away with your charm.”

            Ozzie pouted and looked away. Thrax was practically rephrasing their whole encounter, and he was in no position to correct him.

            “And then what happened?” Viki asked, her eyes shining as if they were listening to the most romantic fairytale.

            “Yeah, tell us, Uncle Thrax,” Tiki was eager to know as well.

            “Shouldn’t you take over from here?” Thrax eyed mischievously at Ozzie, in which the cell pouted again and absentmindedly licked the greenish-yellow blob he poked at off the spoon, not exactly tasting it.

            “Go ahead and tell them yourself, Master. They asked you, not me.”

            Thrax grinned and turned to his nieces and nephews and continued, “Well, he’s always chasing after yours truly here, until he got fired from his job for obsessing too much over me rather than doing his work. I took down Frank, of course, and he got jealous because he thought I decided to take a she-cell with me instead of him. He ganged up with his cold pill friend to stop me under the pretense of arresting me so that he could get his job back, but that she-cell was not really important to me to begin with, just a silly broad as my getaway hostage. We fought for a while, settled our difference and when I asked him if he wanted to be my pet since he loves me so much, he literally crashed into the deal. The rest is history.”

            The children oohed and aahed at Thrax’s story, enjoying the lies thoroughly. Ozzie fought the urge to roll his eyes at this display. Only kids like them would fall for that sort of tall tale.

            “So do you really love him that much, Mr. Ozzie?” Viki turned to ask the cell, who was caught by surprise at this question.

            “Well, uh, I…”

            “Of course he loves him, stupid!” Tiki slapped Viki on the back of her head. “If he didn’t love him, he wouldn’t become Uncle Thrax’s pet now, would he? He wouldn’t even wear the ring around his neck.”

            “It’s not a ring, it’s a collar, you dum-dum!” Viki slapped him back. They would’ve had a brawl and squabbled till no end if Thrax didn’t give them a warning look and if Kiki hadn’t held the both of them back.

            “So are you going to marry Uncle Thrax and officially be in the family, Mr. Ozzie?” Miki asked with wondering eyes.

            “Your dad has already accepted him into the family, baby,” Thrax cut in before Ozzie could mutter something incoherent again. “That’s good enough for us.”

            “Aww…But I wanna see Mr. Ozzie in a nice pretty white wedding dress.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Miki,” Kiki scowled in disgust. “Mr. Ozzie is a he-cell. He can’t wear your stupid white wedding dress!”

            “So what? You can see that Mr. Ozzie is the ‘girl’ in the relationship! There’s nothing wrong with him wearing a pretty wedding dress!”

            “And you four have already outstayed your welcome,” Thrax growled as he picked two children each under his arms and carried them out of the room. Ozzie could hear the kids protesting as Thrax carried them downstairs and out the front door before closing it at their faces. Moments later, he heard the virus’ incoming footsteps as he made his way back up again into the room.

            “They’re gone for now,” Thrax grinned as he sat back beside him. “Finally, a bit of peace and quiet, eh, baby?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied quietly as he finally started eating his lunch they brought him properly. It didn’t taste as bad as it looked, much to the cell’s relief. Before he could take another bite, Thrax’s claws suddenly reached out to take the food container away and put it on the bedside table.

            “Lie down,” Thrax ordered. “I want to see your bruise.”

            Ozzie obeyed and lied down. Thrax undid the night robes and unwrapped the bandages that held the ice pack in place on Ozzie’s middle before inspecting the bruise. It wasn’t as bad as it first formed, but it was still there.

            “Does it still hurt, baby?” Thrax asked as he pressed the bruise with the flat side of his normal claw. Ozzie winced but not immediately.

            “A little bit.”

            “We’ll be reaching Buffalo by tomorrow morning, so I want you to be prepared,” Thrax said as he replaced the ice pack and rewrapped the bandages around Ozzie’s middle. “Majah is quite the tailor and is finishing your new clothes as we speak, because I will not have you walking around showing off your bruise to everyone. But you must remember to bring along those clothes I gave you when we leave this city. Understand?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded as he reached over to take the food container to continue eating but was pulled away again by Thrax. “Is…Is something wrong, Master?”

            “No,” Thrax smiled and took the spoon from the table. “You’ve been a good boy these days. I’m going to reward you. Now open wide.”

            Ozzie felt a little awkward, but he complied with Thrax’s orders. Opening his mouth, he allowed Thrax to spoon-feed him his lunch and help him drink his coffee-like beverage. As he ate, he remembered the last time he was being spoon-fed like this. When he was 10, Frank fainted when he accidentally inhaled mustard gas while trying to help out Shane along with his late wife to do her science assignment, and the fumes he inhaled caused Ozzie and his classmates who were doing a school trip to the nasal dam at that time all sick with respiratory poisoning. His mother stayed day and night in the hospital tending to Ozzie, including spoon-feeding him his meals. Thrax noticed his forlorn look and took his chin, tilting his head to face him.

            “You seem upset, baby. Don’t you like your reward?”

            “No, no, I mean, I like it, Master, really…” Ozzie replied hurriedly so as not to offend the virus.

            “But…?”

            “It’s just…” Ozzie finally sighed and said, “It’s just that…well…I’m thinking about my own family.”

            “What about them?”

            “I just…Well, I didn’t exactly grow up in a proper family and all that. Sure, they were perfect and all, but…but that was while they lasted. I was 12 when I lost them all: my parents, my relatives, my newborn baby sister…”

            “Care to tell me what happened to them?” Thrax asked as he stirred at the food with the spoon, seemingly all ears.

            “I only understood what really happened when I was 16, fresh outta high school and working my way to do college in some silly cheap budget educational program that only exist when you grow up in the wrong side of the digestive system. Apparently Frank cut his calf after Shane made him take cycling exercise to persuade him to lose weight. We were having some sort of Jones family reunion gathering at that time at the Love Handles Festival and when Frank bled, everyone but me was taken in by the current, bleeding out along with everybody who just so happen to be on the spot. I could barely remember some guy holding onto me while everyone, including my darling baby sister, was swept out of Frank’s calf, probably coagulated and gone for good. It took them 3 days to find out that I was living all alone in an empty home with no one else to take care of me after the incident. I was soon relocated to A Home for Crisis Victims—and it’s not exactly heaven on Frank—with the picture of my great-great-grandpappy as my only inspiration to join the force just as the fathers of my family did. I tried to do them proud. As soon as I graduated from college, I slaved my way through immunity training and sat through all the exams just to get into the force. I may have bungled a little, but at least I passed and got my badge and gun. I tried to show the force I could be just as good as my fathers before me in the force were. I jumped into any chance I could to prove to those who knew them that I could do it, that I could ace this and become the Star of the Force just as they did.

            “But no one liked me butting in. No one wanted me to get too involved in cases. The chief always gave me mediocre stuff to do and I was always the laughing stock of the force. They say I always screw up, that I always never follow orders and were always the rebel in the field, when the truth was that they never let me settle on a real worthwhile case to prove my worth. They all thought I was a nuisance, a shameful existence in the PD and a crazy megalomaniac who was an attention- and adventure-seeker who should be kept in a loony bin. They didn’t believe me when I tried to tell them that I made Frank puke because I saw a virus on board an oyster ready to come in. They suspended me for ‘unnecessary force’ and threw me into the worse patrol they could think of to ‘keep me out of trouble’. They sure as hell didn’t believe me when I told them you exist, and I got fired for it. They believed me too late, and now they’re all dead before I could…Sometimes there is something deep down inside me that felt that Shane deserved to be humiliated and let her father become what he was because it was her fault my family died, but I knew my father would never wanted me to do that, no matter how Frank hurt me…And now you’re rewarding me the way my Mama used to treat me, and your cousin Cox and his kids treating me like I have been with you like forever, like as if I am really one of you…It’s just…I dunno, some sort of feeling I missed out for so long, probably something that I no longer knew I’ll ever feel, what with my cruddy life…It feels…”

            “Nostalgic? Painful?” Thrax suggested.

            “A little bit of both, I guess.”

            “You will grow into it soon enough. You will soon understand that humans, no matter how much you try to help them save their lives and keep them going, will never learn from their lessons. You will slowly understand that humans will always figure out creative ways to destroy themselves no matter how much you slave away, throwing your life out of the window to undo the damages they do to themselves. All the eating, smoking, drug-taking, lazing about, suicides, etc…All those are things that will make you see that it is not worth it to risk everything you have to rescue a body that will soon wither away and die, taking you along with it. You will know in time that it is better to just be rid of them rather than wasting your time letting them live on things that will kill you sooner or later. You will see as well how rewarding it can be as long as you stay as my pet and what a right choice it is to let me dominate you and leave that stupid body that gave you nothing but grief…”

            “Frank didn’t give me grief,” Ozzie looked up at him, slightly offended by that last remark. “You did. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be lying here with nothing to do and aching every time I try to move. I wouldn’t be here thinking about what I could’ve done to save Frank from dying and not making a poor girl an orphan, possibly living a life of misery under her Uncle Bob. I wouldn’t be here beating up myself for all the guilt I might have caused due to Frank’s death, subsequently Drix, my only friend, and Leah, the girl of my dreams, to die with him. I wouldn’t even be in this whole friggin’ mess.”

            Thrax looked long and hard at him. Ozzie retaliated with the same gaze. He knew whatever he just said was going to warrant him another punishment of the day, but at that moment, he didn’t care. Technically it was Thrax’s fault that Frank died and his friends and beloved was killed; that he was partially infected and glowing like a freaky neon light; that he was moving from place to place whether he liked it or not dressed like a hooker and that he questioned his sexuality; that he was subjected and will be subjected to the ‘carrot and stick’ method and all the virus’ crazy sexual fantasies; that he was raped by Finn and got knocked up with his spawn and experienced his first miscarriage. It was all Thrax’s fault to begin with, and this was the cell’s only chance to let him know that.

            Ozzie flinched as Thrax lay his hand on the cell’s cheek. He braced himself for whatever punishment the virus might give him and submitted himself to the fate of Thrax’s wrath that will soon be incurred on him, but surprisingly it never came. He opened his clenched eyes and saw for a split second that Thrax’s face was strewn with emotions of…concern? Guilt? Sorrow?

            Before he could make sense of what he saw, Thrax’s lip captured his own in a deep kiss, his skillful tongue dance making Ozzie melt against his will yet again. Only when both of their lungs were protesting for air then the virus let him go. Panting silently through his swollen lips, Ozzie felt his crimson cheek being slapped lightly.

            “You’re just throwing a tantrum because you’re bored in bed,” Thrax said as the emotion Ozzie thought he saw was gone. “I will punish you properly later. Now finish your lunch. I need to see Majah about your new clothes.”

            Confused, Ozzie continued to let Thrax spoon-feed him and help him drink. After finishing his lunch, Thrax ruffled Ozzie’s hair and left.

            Whatever punishment Thrax had in mind, Ozzie prayed to Frank that the virus would forget about it eventually.


	8. Chapter 8

            Ozzie finally understood how goldfish felt like as he sat on Thrax’s lap in the midst of the din. Pretending to be very interested with his shoes, he wished fervently that this party would end quickly.

            It was a bumpy ride once they were in Buffalo. Reaching Buffalo was one thing, getting to their true destination was another. Majah was not quite done with Ozzie’s new clothes, so while waiting, Thrax finally allowed Ozzie to get out of bed to watch how Cox controlled the rat to go to their intended place.

            As soon as the rat was done swimming in the underground sewage and came out of one of the drainage in the subways of Buffalo, Cox immediately went to overdrive and took manual control of it. Ozzie and Thrax watched through the visual feed as Cox drove the rat to where he wanted it to go, seemingly enjoying himself, as if he was a child presented with a car video game. They went past a few restaurants and café houses, traveled through a drugstore and a sundry shop and finally into a suburban housing area.

            According to Cox, after picking a few word-of-mouths from their extended relatives who were on other rats, the Serione they were looking for was staying in a white mouse’s body which was a pet to a girl named Abigail who lived in the suburban housing area. Serione wanted to make it big scale in the medical books as being the first in the Black Death family to spread her plague through common household rodent pets after the Black Death Siege—as the family called it—in the history of viral espionage, and chosen this place to be her first target. While Cox figured out how to enter the house, Majah came in with Ozzie’s new clothes. Ozzie, who was watching the journey in his night robes sitting on Thrax’s lap, hoped that it wasn’t as bad as his midriff and quarter pants, but he was disappointed.

            It was worse.

            Once he discarded the night robes and put on the clothes made by Majah, he realized that it didn’t need a genius to figure out that Majah made this based on Thrax’s design. It was a sleeveless one-piece black overall-like outfit which ran down barely past his knees and his back totally exposed for all the world to see. The only bright side he could see about this outfit was that it was easy to put on. He only needed to step into the outfit, pull it up over him and fasten the clasp that held the one-piece outfit together behind his neck. When he came out with it, everyone in Cox’s family whooped and whistled their approval while Thrax eyed at him from head to toe lustfully.

            Ozzie really felt like he wanted to just dig a hole right in the middle of a blackhead and bury himself alive at that time.

            Soon, Cox decided to wait until nightfall when everyone in the house was asleep before making their move. Cox deliberately made the rat go to somewhere visible for the house cat to see, then quickly, along with Thrax and Ozzie, made a run for it to the emergency escape pods located at the rat’s intestines, leaving the city and everyone else in it, including the mayor, to fend for themselves. Once the house cat saw the poor rat scampering there listlessly and started pouncing and tearing it piece by piece, they all escaped through the pods that ejected them out along with the blood and guts that were mutilated out. They waited patiently in the pod for the cat to gorge itself on the rat and braced themselves as it licked their pods along with the mutilated pieces and left them stuck between the bristles of the cat’s tongue. It took quite a while before the cat tried to sneak up on the pet mouse and got shooed away by the angry Abigail, but not before it tried to chew on the cage railings and indirectly dropping the pod along with its drool into the cage. They took this as a cue to spring out of the pod and hid in the mouse’s feeding bowl and waited until the mouse ate its food, swallowing them whole.

            Inside the mouse city, the inhabitants were less crude than the ones in the rat, and its sanitation was tolerable at best, but they were just as dumb and ignorant as those in the dog. Cox requested an escort from the immunity force—if you could call a bunch of cells sitting there eating doughnuts and chatting away and not out there arresting germs or whatnot and totally oblivious that they were actually staring at a group of viruses (minus Ozzie) an immunity force—to take them to Serione who ran the body and just like in rat city, Serione was there sitting on the mayor’s lap. The poor mayor had a collar and a leash on just like Cox’s pet mayor, with only a pair of boxers as his means of clothing, making Ozzie feel almost relieved he was wearing what he had on him.

            Serione was a very beautiful, almost mythical-looking, virus that stood just a few inches shorter than Cox and Thrax. With her silver flowing hair and pale skin matched with aquamarine and cellular leather dominatrix clothes, she would’ve made even she-cells swoon at her beauty, but Ozzie could see that beneath the elegant façade lay a deadly, ambitious mind. Serione was obviously thrilled to see Cox and his family and was equally ecstatic to see Thrax and Ozzie, praising the virus fervently about his success in getting into the medical books and his ability to take down a city and snag a pet at the same time. Once Thrax allowed Ozzie, Ozzie took Serione’s hand to kiss like a Frenchman would to a lady, and realized that her hand was as cold as ice. Thrax explained to him in private that Serione was quarter Malaria from France and her cold skin was part of the viral features in Malaria that gives humans the symptoms of cold flashes when infected. Serione insisted that all of them, Ozzie included, should join in the citywide party they were about to hold to celebrate the body’s successful pregnancy. Apparently when Abigail went to the Rodent Lovers Fair, bringing the mouse along with her, the mouse mated with one of her friends’ brown rat while she was not looking and, as all rodents’ extraordinary breeding potency, the mouse was no doubt pregnant. Abigail didn’t know about it at the moment, but every inhabitant of mouse city was rejoicing over it, and it was Serione’s perfect chance to spread her plague to the unborn litter as well.

            Thus, in the party at Cerebellum Hall, besides Cox and the family, Ozzie was the center of attention as everyone both male and female there couldn’t help stopping and staring at him, their eyes obviously thinking naughty thoughts from the way he was dressed. The only thing that kept those cells at bay was Thrax’s stabbing glare and the twitch of his killer claw to those who dare to even _think_ of wanting to steal a grope at the cell. Ozzie didn’t eat much during the party, but Thrax insisted that the cell drink whatever was offered by everyone. Thanks to the cell’s not-so-happy upbringing when he was younger and still in Frank, he was more or less quite tolerant to alcoholic drinks, but he could feel the bloat of having so much liquid in his gut that the sight of food made him lose his appetite.

            Finally, towards near dawn, the party ended and everyone was all knocked out and sprawled on the floor from the booze except Serione, Cox and his wife Majah, and Thrax. Ozzie, who fell asleep on the virus’ lap with his head against his shoulder, was awoken to leave the party, but instead of going back to the guesthouse, Ozzie found himself going to the opposite direction as he followed behind Thrax’s wake.

            “Where are we going, Master?” Ozzie asked in confusion.

            “Just for a little walk,” Thrax said. “We drank a lot just now and we need to sober up a little. Sleeping with an intoxicated mind is not good for the head, I can assure you. Besides, we need to enjoy the coolness while it lasts. Once the mouse wakes up, we won’t have this sort of perfect temperature any longer.”

            Ozzie knew the virus was right. He had that experience before. When a body sleeps, everything including the muscles and the heartbeat goes down to a rather slow rate, and when the heart is not pumping blood away as it usually does when the body is awake, the body temperature would go down just a little bit, like what happens to animals when they are in hibernation period, and everyone in the body would feel a little bit of the chill in the air. This was what they were feeling now. The last time he actually felt this cool was the day he was fired by Mayor Phlegmming for lashing out at him, but in truth he had wanted Ozzie to keep Thrax’s existence under wraps.

            “Oh, I almost forgot your present from Serione,” Thrax said as he dug through his inner pockets of his trench-coat. As Ozzie watched, he saw the virus pull out a long piece of black rope with a clasp at one end and a grip handle on the other. With a smirk, Thrax looped one end through Ozzie’s collar and fastened it with the clasp, then held onto the grip handle, winding part of the loose end around his hand.

            “ _Now_ we can go for that walk,” Thrax said as he gave a shove at Ozzie’s shoulder to walk in front of him. “Go on, baby. Let’s make a move on.”

            Ozzie knew Thrax said he was going to get him a leash for the collar, but didn’t think that he would actually do it. Sighing inwardly, he moved ahead of the virus, feeling his gaze on his bare back as they walked all the way to the recreational park at the eye area. It was dark and deserted with only a few park lights on because there was no view, thanks to the mouse’s closed eyes, and it seemed that Thrax and Ozzie were the only ones there, judging by their echoing footsteps.

            Thrax then walked ahead of Ozzie and approached a vending machine in the park. Using some spare change he had, he slotted them in and chose a warm drink from it. Opening the can, he passed it to Ozzie.

            “Here, drink this,” Thrax said. “It’s nice and warm, good for curing your tipsy head and also your bloat.”

            “But…But I can’t drink anymore…My stomach…” Ozzie protested but Thrax stared him down with one hand on the vending machine, making the cell cringe against it.

            “You are my slave and I am your…?”

            “M-My Master…”

            “And what did I say you must do?”

            “Obey your every order.”

            “And when I say I want you to drink it?”

            “I…I’ll drink it.”

            “So what must you do now?”

            Ozzie nodded tentatively and sipped the drink. Looking up at Thrax, he could see from the virus’ eyes that he wanted him to do more than just sip. Taking a deep breath, Ozzie chugged down the drink as fast as he could, the warm liquid flowing down his throat and engulfing his gut. He knew that Thrax was lying about the drink curing bloat because he felt more like a walking water balloon rather than feeling better, but there was no way in hell he was allowed to complain about it.

            “You done?” Thrax asked, raising an eyebrow.

            Ozzie quickly swallowed the last drop and nodded, throwing the can into the nearest bin. Thrax moved backwards a little, loosening his grip a little on the leash, and made Ozzie stay where he was.

            “Stand there. Spread your legs a little. I want to see your body.”

            Ozzie complied. He spread his legs a little and hung his arms to his sides, allowing Thrax to eye him from head to toe.

            “Now turn to the side and lean forward a little.”

            Ozzie did so. As he leaned forward, a little bit of his outfit sagged along with him as well, revealing a bit of his body within. Thrax’s gaze shifted to his middle and saw that the bruise seemed to look better.

            “Hmm, the bruise is still there,” Thrax commented. “But I think it won’t be too long before it’s healed. Turn around. Lean your hands against the machine and stick your ass out for me.”

            Ozzie hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told. He placed his hands against the machine and leaned down until his butt was facing the virus. Unconsciously, his mind went back to the day where he was asked to undo his pants while balancing the drinks on his hands, and it somehow triggered some sort of reaction to his body. He didn’t know whether he was actually aroused by it or that his nucleus was urging him to go to the bathroom, but he could feel himself leaking through his pants. Thrax noticed his body reaction and squatted in front of Ozzie’s ass.

            “What’s this I see?” Thrax teased as he raked his normal claw lightly at Ozzie’s crotch, feeling the wet patch. “You’re starting to feel it, aren’t you?”

            “N-No, that’s…that’s n-n-not true…” Ozzie protested despite himself.

            “You’re starting to look like a proper slave now, baby. But you still have a long way to go,” Thrax grinned as he pulled at the leash to make him stand up straight again. “Come along now. Let’s keep walking, but this time, I want you to go on your hands and knees.”

            “You…You mean you want me to walk…like a dog?” Ozzie widened his eyes a little, clearly offended.

            “Yes, like a dog. You got a problem with that?”

            It was, to Ozzie, a stupid question to ask, but to reply what he really felt was stupid as well unless he was a sucker for punishment. Mentally cursing the virus, he went down on his hands and knees and crawled after Thrax, thinking regretfully about not making the decision to just release his hold on the virus and allow himself to drop to his death that fateful day Frank died. He finally knew the full scale of Thrax mentioning before to ‘punish him properly’ and that he had not forgotten the day Ozzie accused him of being the root of his misery. He was almost thankful that the park was deserted, but he was still wary about the possibility that they were not alone and that people might see this form of display, but unfortunately Thrax wasn’t exactly allowing him to give this possibility a second thought.

            Thrax walked down the park until he reached a nearby bench. Sitting down, he pulled at the leash to urge Ozzie to move faster.

            “Get over here, baby. Quickly.”

            Ozzie crawled a little faster towards Thrax until he was facing the virus’ crotch. Looking up at the virus, he waited for his next order.

            “You know what to do next, don’t you, baby?”  
            Ozzie nodded, knowing very well what the virus had in mind. Patting his hands off the dirt, he reached up to unzip Thrax’s fly and took his man meat out. Just as he did the first time, he stuck his tongue out and started licking the tip before wrapping his elastic tongue around the cock just the way Thrax liked it. Once the cock hardened and came to life, Ozzie widened his mouth to take him in, trying to swallow him whole. Thanks to his elasticity, it was easy for him to relax his throat and take him to the hilt, although it occasionally probed at his gag reflex and he had to pull back a little.

            As he sucked, the kneeling position he was in was causing his nucleus to protest for release of the excess liquid that gathered within it. In fact, as Thrax reached over to undo the clasp behind Ozzie’s neck that held the outfit in place—revealing his top half of his body for the world to see—he could feel it threatening to burst. Grabbing onto the lower half of the outfit to hold back the exploding feeling, he released his oral hold on Thrax’s member and breathed heavily to subdue the impending urge to pee in his pants.

            “I have not ordered you to stop, Jones,” Thrax said warningly.

            “P-P-Please, Master,” Ozzie begged. “L-Let me g-go to the toilet…”

            “And let you walk out in the middle of your service?” Thrax chuckled seeing Ozzie’s pained, desperate look on his face. “That will not do. You wanna pee, you go right ahead and pee here. Don’t stop doing whatever you’re doing until I say so.”

            “B-But…the outfit you g-g-gave me w-will…”

            “It’s fine. You’re gonna wash it anyway, aren’t you? Now carry on. He’s getting cold.”

            So saying, Thrax took Ozzie’s head and directed him back to his cock, forcing the cell to open his mouth and take him in again. With one hand holding back his nucleus, Ozzie tried hard to continue with his blowjob. Feeling that it wasn’t as good as before, Thrax reached over to pinch Ozzie’s chest.

            “C’mon, baby. Be serious. Put your back into it.”

            Unlike humans, cells don’t exactly have nipples, but they do have a sort inverted concaved membrane on both sides of their chest and that was the area Thrax was teasing, making the cell arch at the touch. With a surprised yelp at the sudden stimulation, Ozzie tried to comply with Thrax’s wishes, but it was still not satisfactory enough for the virus.

            “Don’t you dare stop now,” Thrax said as he held onto both sides of Ozzie’s head and made him bob up and down his length. “Like I said, either you can go to the toilet later or you settle it right here, but you are not allowed to walk out on me and leave me hanging.”

            Ozzie finally couldn’t hold back anymore. Throwing all sense of decency, he let go of the grip he had on the outfit and relieved himself as he continued to suck and lick Thrax’s rod. Everything he drank from the party till now was finally emptied out of his nucleus, making the cell sighed mentally in relief. Thrax smirked at the way Ozzie looked as if he was finally able to breathe or something. Pushing Ozzie’s mouth off his cock, he pulled at Ozzie until his arms were on his lap before lowering the rest of the outfit until the cell’s buttocks were revealed—but not entirely taking it all off—and spread whatever wetness was on Ozzie’s seat of the pants around his hole.

            “We’re not done yet,” Thrax noted. “I’m going to cleanse you properly inside out after what that rat of a cell did to you. I want to make you mine and mine alone.”

            With that, he made Ozzie straddle him with the cell’s back facing him and held him firmly by the hips before pushing him down onto his saliva-coated cock, earning a strangled moan from the cell. As usual, Ozzie’s physical structure allowed the cock to slide in quite easily and the initial burn went away as soon as it came. Thanks to Thrax’s massive length, it quickly hit the spot that made Ozzie scream uncontrollably, its ridges rubbing against the inner muscle to stimulate him some more.

            “Move your ass, baby,” Thrax said as he thrust slightly upwards into Ozzie. “I can’t do it all by myself, you know.”

            Ozzie, against his better judgment, started bobbing his ass up and down, feeling the ridges rubbing within him as his spot was assaulted again and again, making the stars flashing in and out in his mind’s eye in a frenzy. Thrax reached both his hands around Ozzie’s waist to cup the cell’s sac and hold his manhood, massaging and pumping them expertly in time with Ozzie’s rhythm. Trusting Thrax not to castrate him, Ozzie continued slamming down against the virus’ cock, bringing himself closer and closer to the edge despite the fact that in the back of his mind, he was not supposed to let himself go unless his Master said so.

            “I’m…I’m c-c-cumming~!!”

            Before Thrax could stop him, Ozzie lost himself to the crushing orgasm that hit him like the muscle did when he accidentally blew up the main nerve receptor and cause Frank to get a cramp. String upon string of his seed was released, staining his thighs and Thrax’s hands. The tightening of his inner muscles made the virus lose control as well, but not before he pulled out quickly and shot his seed between the cell’s thighs, mixing with the cell’s own. Both of them panted breathlessly to allow their orgasm to subside before Thrax reached up with a slightly trembling hand to pinch lightly at Ozzie’s cheek.

            “You still can’t hold back, can you? I told you, you can’t cum without my…Are you listening to me, Jones?”

            Unfortunately he wasn’t. The cell, coupled with the fatigue he already felt during the party and the afterglow of his orgasm, had already leaned back against Thrax’s chest and fell into a deep slumber, snoring away like it was nobody’s business. Thrax wanted to shake him awake to scold him properly, but seeing Ozzie’s serene face, he stopped himself.

            “You’re lucky you made me feel good just now. I’ll let you off just this once.”

            Wrapping his trench-coat around the cell, Thrax carried Ozzie piggy-back all the way to the guesthouse where they shared with Cox and his family.


	9. Chapter 9

            After staying for about 3 days in the mouse’s body, Thrax decided it was time for them to make their move. Listening in to Abigail’s phone conversation, they found out that she was going to attend another Rodent Lovers’ Fair next week and the possible number of people attending would prove a good way to find the perfect victim.

            On the day of the fair, Thrax and Ozzie waited patiently at the tip of the mouse’s nose along with Cox and his family, who decided as well that it was about time they moved on to another rat city. Lucky for them, there were a lot of rodents as well as people in the fair, some of them having the huge common black rats as pets. Bidding their farewells to Serione and each other, they waited for the opportune moment to leap off the mouse’s nose and went off their separate ways.

            Thrax, with Ozzie holding onto him tight, leapt and glided from one obstacle to another to find the best body they could get into. Ozzie helped him be his tracking eyes as to which one he thought could be the best victim, but ultimately Thrax chose a middle-aged man who was one of the curious visitors in the fair just checking out the event. They landed on the donut he was eating and hid in the icing sugar, bracing themselves as the man took another bite, swallowing them in.

            Ozzie learnt that occasionally, Thrax was a sucker for making grand entrances. Just as he did when he came into the private booth during their secret meeting with the immunity force in the city of Nana, he made his shocking appearance when the saliva boat came to do their routine check-up of germ-busting. Holding onto Thrax just right, Ozzie watched as Thrax used his killer claw to blast them out of the gooey dough they were encased in and stood there as Thrax killed off the poor saliva boat cells before navigating the boat down the throat. Once they were almost close to the highway that led to the stomach, they leapt off the boat and flew down the other connecting highway to the liver to lay low for a while, leaving the boat to its unknown fate.

            Gregory Metropolis—the city they were in—was an average Joe sort of city, although it looked much better than Frank and Nana combined. It would probably prove a bit of a challenge for Thrax because Gregory was a man who lived life to the fullest with no record of any major health problems. Of course, Gregory had his ups and downs of health when he was younger, but other than that, it did not affect the city in any sort of tidal scale. Officers of Gregory’s finest were pretty competent and the inhabitants of Gregory were basically happy, contented and healthy. Ozzie could tell that to take this city down, they were going to need to approach the correct party.

            Again, Ozzie became an accessory to Thrax’s plan. Posing as a male hooker (under the threat of punishment by Thrax, of course), Ozzie was asked to try and look for suitable people to be recruited for his Master’s grand heist. Using his investigative skills and his experience in undercover work, Thrax sent him to certain areas to try and look for interested candidates and the first place he dropped him off was The Mole Blitz, which was a disco pub located just above Gregory’s left armpit.

            “I thought you didn’t want me to be touched,” Ozzie complained as they stood in a secluded area a few feet away from the pub.

            “Well, in this case, we’ll have to make an exception,” Thrax said as he stroked Ozzie’s face with his non-lit killer claw. “Desperate times calls for desperate measures, baby, and in this kind of city, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

            “I’m sensing some ground rules you’re gonna give me before I make my move,” Ozzie pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

            “Very smart, baby,” Thrax chuckled while undoing the leash he had on Ozzie throughout their entire journey in Gregory. “The only thing I will not allow you to let them do is have their lips on you. They can touch or grope you anywhere they liked except you-know-where, but their lips are off limits on any part of your body, especially your own, period. Got that, baby?”

            “Crystal,” Ozzie replied grudgingly. He didn’t like being touched, much less being kissed, by anyone in particular, but unless he wanted to be unable to sit properly or be degraded further than he already was, he thought it wise to just stick with the game plan.

            “Now go,” Thrax pecked Ozzie’s forehead and shoved him towards the direction of the pub. “Make me proud, baby. You know which room I’ll be in.”

            Taking a deep breath, Ozzie relaxed his shoulders and made his way into the front door of the pub. There was quite a long line waiting outside the pub to get in because of the sheer amount of people inside, but Ozzie marched right up to the security guard there and gave him the most seductive smile he could muster—pretending the other party was Leah—and flashed his bare back a little to him to persuade him to let him in first. After allowing the guard to caress his back (much to his disgust) and promising him that he’ll have ‘a good time’ once his shift was over, the cell was allowed in amidst the protest of those waiting in line.

            Once inside, Ozzie scanned through the area and noticed there was a handful of potential germs and bacteria-s seemingly good enough for his Master’s agenda. Keeping himself within their eyeshot, he strutted his stuff and moved to the center of the dance floor. He gave a flirtatious eye contact with the DJ jamming the songs to crank up the beat and leaned his neck from side to side to get rid of the cricks. Once the music switched to a stronger techno beat, Ozzie started moving to it, swaying his hips and arms along with the music. Many people who saw him break the dance floor approached him one by one (sometimes more than one at one time) to dance with him, but only a few of them seemed to be worthy enough to be chosen as part of Thrax’s crew, while others were just the regular people wanting to have a go with him. Thinking back to his high school where he used to moonlight as a dancer in clubs to lure in the cash (and the ladies) and also the times where he had to go undercover involving going to discos and clubs to shake a tail-cell or two, he danced along with anyone who came along, gesturing those he thought were good to wait for him outside the private room in the pub Thrax had booked and designated him to bring, while getting lost in his little world of pounding tempo and blasting sound waves. Occasionally he stole a glance at the other germs and bacteria-s who chose to look from afar, giving them the same eye contact he gave the DJ that they were welcomed to approach him anytime. Their grins and smirks told Ozzie that they have gotten the message.

            “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Baby, you’re lookin’ mighty fine.”

            A deep, husky voice made Ozzie turned to look in front of him. The voice belonged to a male that stood equivalently as tall as Thrax, with dirty blonde locks that ran all the way past his butt and greenish-black skin. He had the most haunting red eyes Ozzie had ever seen, with black pupils like a snake’s, and when he smiled, he had teeth exactly like Thrax’s. He was wearing a dark blue vest and a pair of three-quarter pants and cellular leather boots, and had mini neon lights hanging out of the loops of his pants where the belt was supposed to be. As he ran his claws through Ozzie’s hair, the cell could tell this person was more than a germ or a bacteria.

            “Funny, I didn’t think there’d be viruses in this joint,” Ozzie said as he continued to dance around the male, swaying his hips to the beat.

            “Oh, I’ve been laying low for quite some time, baby,” the virus replied, sounding almost exactly his Master. He wrapped one hand around Ozzie’s waist and smirked, “You, on the other hand, are new in town, ain’t cha? Care to join me for a drink?”

            “If you don’t mind the extra company,” Ozzie replied, pointing at the germs and bacteria-s that were starting to get off their seats and moving towards them, “and also if you don’t mind a bit of a score my Master is offering.”

            “I see,” the virus raised a brow in interest. “So you’re serving under a pimp now. Kinky. My kind of baby.”

            “Shall we?” Ozzie said as he turned towards the group of germs and bacteria-s, who in turn followed his lead to the private room where Thrax was waiting.

\--:--

            “Thrax?”

            “Klepta?”

            Thrax and the said Klepta stood in front of each other in surprise as Ozzie led the group into the private room. If he didn’t have his blonde hair and greenish-black skin, he and Thrax would’ve looked like twins.

            “What the heck are you doing here?” Thrax demanded, clearly offended at the younger virus’ presence.

            “What the heck are _you_ doing here? This is _my_ joint!” Klepta growled back.

            “Um…You guys know each other?” Ozzie asked awkwardly, even though he knew it was a dumb question.

            “Baby, you didn’t tell me your pimp was my half-brother,” Klepta said as he put an arm around Ozzie’s shoulder. Thrax snarled and pushed Klepta away, holding the surprised Ozzie possessively.

            “Keep your hands away from _my_ pet, you ass! And no one calls him ‘Baby’ but me!”

            “I don’t see your name written on this doll! ‘Sides, he came on to me himself!”

            “He came on to you because he didn’t know any better! I told him to gather recruits, and got you as the runt of the litter!”

            “You’re still the sulky, whiny half-elder brother I always knew,” Klepta sneered. “Now who’s the runt of the litter?”

            “Is that a challenge?” Thrax growled and flexed out his killer claw, prompting Klepta to arm himself with both his claws glowing in some sort of sickly green plasma-like flare.

            “Bring it on, wimp!”

            “Guys! Guys, stop!” Ozzie quickly stood between the brothers before they started an all-out war. “Master, the recruits are all here waiting for your big plan. Shouldn’t you start briefing them?”

            “Wait, you’re gonna steal my joint now?” Klepta asked bewilderedly. “I was here first! This is my city to blow, not yours! Why do you always have to take what’s rightfully mine?!”

            “Well, it’s your fault for taking your sweet time! Finders, keepers, baby…”

            “Master, please,” Ozzie begged, embracing Thrax to stop him from squabbling any longer. “I promised them you’ll show up. Please…”

            Thrax glared long and hard at Klepta before retracting his killer claw and ran his fingers through his dreadlocks, composing himself. After allowing Ozzie to adjust his collar and shirt, he turned to the direction of the germs and bacteria-s all seated there waiting for something to happen, but not before having the final word.

            “You’re lucky I got a pet that had the bleeding hearts of the world united in him. I’ll call you when I need you, Jones. Make sure you keep that runt outta my way while I talk business with the boys.”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded obligingly.

            “Who you’re calling…” Klepta’s yell was cut short when he saw Thrax was clearly shutting him out. With a huff, he stomped out of the private room and sat at a drinking booth just right outside the corridor. Ozzie, after taking a second glance to make sure Thrax didn’t need him just yet, walked out and joined him.

            “Hey, uh…Sorry about that…I didn’t know…”

            “Ain’t your fault, doll,” Klepta grumbled as he took two glasses of glowing drinks from the passing-by waiter and offered one to Ozzie. “You don’t have to apologize for my half-brother. He’s an ass. Always has been, always will be. Standing up for him would be a waste of your time.”

            “How did you get into this body anyway?” Ozzie asked. “Last time we checked, Gregory was in tip-top shape.”

            “Well, doll, conveniently for me, he probably had forgotten about being nipped by the neighbour’s puppy a few months back. It may have grazed his finger a little, but it was enough for me to hop in. I was planning to take him down, since ol’ Greg didn’t think that rabies shot was necessary, when your _Master_ showed up.”

            “You said Thrax is your half-brother. How did that go about?”

            Klepta drained the drink in one gulp before continuing, the drink leaving a dim glow on his tongue, “We are half-siblings on the mother’s side. Our father was a bigamist and enjoyed having many wives under his wing to spread the bloodline, but Thrax’s mother is basically like the matriarch of the sisterhood. My mother is from the Rabies family while our 5 other mothers are from the Salmonella, TB, German Measles, Yellow Fever and Ebola family.”

            “Wow, that’s…a really big family,” Ozzie widened his eyes in shock, imagining the Black Death having so many she-viruses tailing along behind him with spawns of their own.

            “Thrax had always been the spoilt brat of the family, always whining and griping and wanting everything for himself. Of all the siblings, he hated the ones from our Ebola mother with a passion because he was jealous of their killing abilities and that the mother always bragged about the glorious good ol’ days when her family struck fear in everyone as one of the deadliest, most grotesque diseases next to AIDS. If anyone had inspired him to be such a glory-hog and always wanting to prove his worth, forcing him to finally stand up on his own two feet, it’ll probably be her.”

            _Guess that’s where his obsession and determination to break records and getting into medical books came from,_ Ozzie sipped his drink quietly, which was bitter-sweet to the taste with a tinge of alcohol, finally understanding a little about the source of his Master’s overzealousness.

            “Dang, doll, look at me! I’m talking to you as if I’ve known you forever!” Klepta laughed at himself. “You must have some sort of power over me to loosen my tongue like this.”

            “Maybe I just got one of those faces,” Ozzie said, then thought, _Or_ _maybe you’re just friggin’ drunk!_

            “So what’s your story, doll? I can see that you ain’t from around this body.”

            “Yeah, well, it’s kinda sorta long story,” Ozzie scratched his chin and looked away, “but the gist of it is that he destroyed my city, kidnapped me and made me a partially infected cell,” he gestured at his dimly glowing body, “and forced me to be his slave, always making me do all sorts of perverted things while doing it to me as well.”

            “I think you look stunning as a partially infected cell. But it does strike me as odd,” Klepta tapped his chin wonderingly. “The little wimp had always been a loner even amongst us. He’s not known to be attached to anyone or anything. I’m actually surprised you had it easy with him.”

            Ozzie rolled his eyes at the last remark. Nothing was ‘easy’ when it was Thrax they were talking about. But some of Klepta’s words sort of rang true. Throughout his days with Thrax, he had watched the virus kill without mercy and left many for dead, even gave the death penalty to those who defied him, but Ozzie had always been kept alive till now. Thrax had threatened death many times over with his killer claw at him, but never once did he felt the wrath of, as Thrax put it, ‘heating up like a sidewalk on a summer day’. Spanked, yes. Slapped, yes. Scolded, yes. Forced to do and endure perverted punishments, yes. Actual death, never. Ozzie was lost in his thought trying to make sense of it all.

            “Do you hate being with him?”

            “I’m sorry, what?” Ozzie looked up at Klepta, his muse broken.

            “Do you like the things he’s done to you so far?” Klepta asked, taking another round of drinks for them.

            “O…Of course not!” Ozzie protested. “You have no idea what dirty things he made me do against my will, and what he does to me whenever I disobeyed him or whenever he couldn’t keep his hormones in his pants!”

            “So I asked: Do you hate being with him?”

            “Well, I…I dunno…I mean, I guess I…” Ozzie somehow suddenly found himself unable to answer the question. It was simple enough. He didn’t like what Thrax did to him, right? He was taken against his will to become his slave and killed Frank and everyone he loved in him. He was spanked black and blue whenever he misbehaved, and made to do very degrading things. He was happy enough to be able to at least eat and breathe without having to ask permission. He was a murderer, a sadist and everything evil in between. He should have the right to be angry with him, right? Then the answer should obvious enough for this question. Why couldn’t he bring himself to say it? Why won’t the simplest answer to the easiest question in the whole wide world spill out of his mouth?

            Klepta grinned, seemingly knowing the mystery behind Ozzie’s hesitation, and said, “Well, since I’ve spouted so much of our skeletons in the family closet, lemme tell you something about Thrax. Something he would never, ever admit, even to himself. The real reason why he is so hell-bent on making it big in the medical books.”

            If Ozzie had dog ears, it would’ve perked up eagerly to hear what Klepta had to say.

            “When he was 21 and was getting the hang of his powers, he stepped into his first city and unexpectedly fell for a she-cell who worked under the Scab Unit. She was quite charismatic and headstrong, and despite himself, ol’ wimp there got himself falling heads over heels for her. He planned to stay in the city and give up his nature, and had been wooing her in his own so-called gentleman ways.

            “The she-cell knew their love was forbidden, but she accepted his advances anyway. But an immunity he-cell who had a crush on her found out about their illicit relationship and was adamant to get rid of Thrax to have her for his own. That he-cell snuck into the she-cell’s home and killed her family in cold blood, imitating Thrax’s signature MO and thus put the blame on the poor wimp. The she-cell was so upset that she committed suicide by confronting Thrax and forced his killer claw into her, boiling her alive, telling him before she died that she would never forgive him even in death and he would regret betraying her for the rest of his miserable life. Sometimes I wonder who was the real bad guy here, Thrax or the cell who swore an oath in immunity to protect the city for all its worth.

            “After finding the he-cell and killing him, trashing the city in the process, Thrax was never the same again. His loner personality got worse, and he became much more malicious and vicious than he already was, with his ego and jazz-loving attitude as a cover-up for a deadly killer within. He killed, pillaged and burned because the fire and the heat he caused was probably the only consolation he could get from his pained past, the only comfort he could get from the scorch knowing that the she-cell is part of it, consumed and living forever within it, to feel her presence within those flames…Probably also the only way he could create a tribute to the only she-cell he had ever loved so deeply through the recognition in the medical books…”

            “H…How do you know all this?” Ozzie asked in surprise and wonder as he looked at Klepta’s faraway gaze.

            “I may hate his guts and all, but he’s still the closest to a real brother he had ever been with me compared to the rest of our siblings. I was there, doll. His mother made me go along with him to…learn the ropes from him, as she put it, and I was there when everything happened. I watched as Thrax swoon over her endlessly, even though he furiously denied it in front of me, and I watched as the she-cell melted away in Thrax’s arms when she committed suicide through his means. We went our separate ways after that, only bumping into each other once in a blue moon, getting at each other’s throats in the process. Didn’t think we’d meet again.”

            “Oh, well, I guess it’s thanks to me,” Ozzie looked down, barely realizing he had already finished his drink.

            “There I go again. Spouting to you all our family secret’s, even telling you Thrax’s deep, dark ones that he’d rather keep it within him, locked, the key thrown away and forgotten. What are you doing to me, doll?”

            _Nothing you did to yourself,_ Ozzie thought as he smiled sheepishly on the outside.

            “Listen, doll,” Klepta said as he took Ozzie’s chin. “Don’t tell Thrax that I told you all this, and if you feel that your true answer about your feelings towards Thrax is hate, feel free to find me. Since he’s here, there’s no point for me to take down this city. It’s his turf now. I’ll hang around and watch his handiwork before I leave, just for the sake of seeing if he was really worth being mentioned in the medical books, but if you like, I can hitch you a ride where you can pick a body and live the rest of your life normally.”

            Ozzie held his breath in shock. Him leaving Thrax for good and leave this hellish life to live a normal one in a new city? Maybe wanting a normal life was asking too much, given his partially infected condition, but still, to no longer be subjected to the perverse things Thrax made him do? Could he actually help him do that? What about Thrax? What would become of him? Could this Klepta guy even be trusted?

            “No need to wrack your brains over it, doll,” Klepta laughed at Ozzie’s facial expression. “Take your time. Thrax ain’t gonna leave so soon, not till he’s done with this gig. Just tell me when you’re ready.”

            “W…Why…? Why are you…treating me so nice…?” Ozzie asked skeptically.

            “Coz you’re such a fine thing, doll, that’s why. I can see why Thrax is so possessive over you now,” Klepta replied huskily before taking another long look at the cell. His red eyes widened a little when he noticed something, “Heck, now that I look at you, doll, you look just like her, only you’re a guy.”

            “Like who?”

            “Trisha. The she-cell I was talking about. The Trisha whom Thrax was so crazy about.”

            “W-Wha…?”

            “Jones. Get in here, baby.”

            Ozzie turned to see Thrax’s authoritative look as he held the door open for the cell to enter. Quickly, Ozzie got off his seat and went in. Thrax gave a last venomous glare at Klepta before shutting the door, then proceeded to put Ozzie in display and giving them the usual false promises of coming along with him for the ride to conquer other cities.

            As Ozzie quietly allowed Thrax to treat him like a prized trophy, he couldn’t help feeling a sort of revelation behind Thrax’s demeanour, and also Klepta’s deal.


	10. Chapter 10

            “That was a pretty good haul, ain’t it, baby?”

            Ozzie nodded in reply as he helped Thrax to hang his trench-coat and take off his shoes. While they were in Gregory Metropolis, the Master-Slave duo have decided to lay low at the mole area, since it was probably the most unimportant area of the body. In the mole, the lifestyle there was pretty much more towards the night life, and when the Mole Blitz disco pub was not in business in the day, people would be in their homes, either sound asleep or getting on with their daily lives as working citizens of Gregory, barely even noticing a nasty virus and his partially infected slave living around the corner. Staying in a 3-fat hotel nearby the disco pub, they went out to many parts of the city trying to recruit as much germs and bacteria lackeys as possible, with the help of Klepta, of course.

            It seemed that Gregory, despite taking pride in living life to the fullest, did not exactly work in the most sanitary conditions. Gregory’s job was in a construction site as a brick-layer and cement-mixer and no matter how he showered and scrubbed after work, there are still germs that might manage to get past immunity and made residence within Gregory Metropolis. As much as Thrax hated to admit it, he knew Klepta had been in the city longer than he was and knew almost every badass germ and bacteria around. He had not wanted his half-brother to help him with his recruiting scheme but thanks to Ozzie who persuaded him to at least give him a shot (adding that he was going to need all the help he could get), Thrax grudgingly allowed Klepta to steal the show for the moment, rounding up his much needed assistance by bringing in every night as much of his buddies as he could gather during the day to go to Thrax’s little secret meetings at the private room in the pub.

            “I didn’t think Klepta would be such a people person,” Ozzie said almost admiringly. “Thanks to him, we might actually get this over and done with in no time.”

            “Yeah, whatever,” Thrax muttered in an annoyed tone, then grabbed Ozzie from behind by the waist and grumbled, “Enough about Klepta. I don’t like you talking about him in front of me.”

            “Sorry, Master. B…But if you just give him a chance, I’m sure…”

            “Oh, sure! I bet you’re hunky-dory fine with him, ain’t cha? I bet you’re wonderin’ how he might feel inside you once you got him in bed and all.”

            “That’s not true!” Ozzie protested, failing to notice the hint of something different in Thrax’s tone. “I would never think of your brother that way! He’s just…well, I’m surprised that I might put it this way but, yeah, he’s just like a friend to me, is all.”

            “Oh yeah?” Thrax challenged, pushing Ozzie against the wall. “Is that why he’s always lookin’ like he just spent too much time with the Viagra commies when he’s around you? Is that why he’s always so sweet-talking you into doing whatever he wants with no regards of my presence whatsoever? Is that why he’s always trying to steal a grope anywhere and everywhere on your body—and I had to reprimand him on that over and over again—and always putting his arms around your shoulder like as you’re best buds forever or something? What are you trying to do? Make me jealous? Nice try, Jones, but it’s not working!”

            “C-Come on, Master…Y-You’re being ridiculous,” Ozzie stuttered, starting to feel the possibility of a punishment coming in. “I-I-If only you would just…you know…just get to know Klepta a little better, m-m-maybe…”

            Before Ozzie could finish his words, something that felt—and tasted—like fabric was stuffed into his mouth out of nowhere. It was so huge and thick that Ozzie couldn’t widen his mouth despite his elasticity to spit it out. He wanted to take it out but Thrax’s glowing killer claw was quickly pressed lightly against his Adam’s apple as a warning, making him swallow in fear.

            “Don’t you even think about it, Jones,” Thrax growled, his yellow eyes glaring dangerously at him. “And don’t say another word about Klepta. Have you forgotten who you are? Who you belong to?”

            Ozzie let out a muffled whine, shaking his head slightly, not sure whether it meant for begging Thrax not to hurt him or that he had not forgotten his servitude to Thrax.

            “Don’t try telling me about whether or not I know my brother. I know him well enough to not trust him, even if he _is_ related to me in blood. Do you want whatever happened to you with Finn to repeat itself on Klepta? I’d hate to hurt you again, and I’d hate to kill a brother.”

            Ozzie shook his head immediately this time, his eyes starting to brim with tears as he was reminded of his brutal experience of being torn apart repeatedly and the pain of losing a child that felt like he was being hit by a freight train. Thrax scowled as he hastily brushed the tears off Ozzie’s eyes and attached the leash to his collar before dragging him into the bedroom.

            “No point using your tears on me this time, baby. You are still going to be punished for smart-talking at me.”

            So saying, he made Ozzie sit down on the floor by pushing down on the cell’s shoulders. Ozzie watched in fearful anticipation as Thrax walked out of the room to goodness knows where. He could hear him slam the door, assuming that he left the motel and waited for about 30 seconds before Thrax’s return could be heard with another sound of a slamming door. He had wanted to take out the gag if the virus wasn’t going to show up anytime soon but luckily pulled his hand away at the last minute, all the while remaining seated at his spot for fear of being caught walking around without the virus’ permission. Thrax, who was holding a shopping bag in his hand, took a look at Ozzie still the way he was and smirked.

            “Good boy,” Thrax said as he fished out the thing from the shopping bag and threw it at Ozzie’s knees. It was a bundle of rope usually used to tie bulky things—the kind that was also used to tie people with. When asked by Ozzie’s questioning eyes, Thrax smirked again, picked up the bundle of rope and tapped one end against Ozzie’s cheek, saying, “I’m sure you have an idea what this is about. I have always wanted to try this ever since I tried to kill a guy who watched way too much Japanese porn.”

            Without warning, the virus pulled Ozzie up to his feet and undid the bundle of rope. He started off by tying the neck area, moving towards the chest, the arms, the waist, between the cell’s legs—digging into his crotch in the process—and then around the wrist of the cell’s half-nelson arms. By the time he was done, Ozzie found himself bound in the classic Japanese bondage of the BDSM culture.

            “Perfect,” Thrax smiled in satisfaction. He lowere Ozzie’s pants within the confines until his bare buttocks were showing. The cell winced a little as he felt the robe rubbing coarsely against the membrane of his ass, wondering nervously what his Master was trying to do.

            Pulling at the leash, Thrax made Ozzie fall face down onto his lap. The cell knew this motion too well: he was going to be spanked as punishment. He could hear Thrax unbuckling his belt and could hear the sound of the belt being folded into half. It had been a very long while since he was last spanked and his heart felt as if it was climbing up to his throat as the feeling of trepidation crept in.

            “You know I don’t enjoy doing this, baby,” Thrax said not as a question, but as a statement.

            Even though Ozzie knew that in truth, he felt the exact opposite, he also knew better than to contradict him. Ozzie nodded, reluctantly resigned to his fate.

            “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

            Ozzie nodded again.

            “Good boy.”

            With that, the crack of Thrax’s belt was soon heard on his buttock, delivering its first sting. Before it had a chance to simmer down, another one came. Ozzie tried to send his mind elsewhere, to focus on anything other than the pain, but the strength of Thrax’s blow and the toughness of Thrax’s belt that hit him were too strong for him to concentrate on anything else. If it weren’t for the gag in his mouth, he would’ve been biting his lip till it bled, or worse, his tongue. After about 5 minutes, Ozzie couldn’t take it anymore. He felt as if his membrane was going to peel and his ass was going to bleed all over the place. Tears falling freely down his cheeks, he let out muffled screams after screams, shaking his head and begging Thrax to stop with his sobs. Thrax still gave him no quarter. He continued spanking him with the belt for another 3 more minutes until Ozzie was sobbing desperately and uncontrollably, his face a salty teary mess.

            “I’m not done with you yet, Jones,” Thrax landed a last extra hard whack on Ozzie’s brutalized butt before pushing him off his lap harshly, making him fall unceremoniously on the floor. With one hand, he held Ozzie’s head down onto the floor to keep him in place while he made the cell to be on his knees with the other. As Ozzie sobbed, he could heart Thrax rummaging through his trench-coat for something and putting it onto the floor, but he couldn’t turn to see because of Thrax’s hold on his head.

            “We haven’t properly fucked since the day at the park at Serione’s,” Thrax said in devious tone, “and I’d like to savour the moment, take my time doing this. Besides, I see someone here seeming to enjoy being punished.”

            Ozzie gasped as he felt Thrax’s hand on his own cock. He was horrified to find that his member was actually rock hard before the virus even touched him, and when Thrax reached to pinch the painful bruises on his ass, the pain actually travelled down to his cock, tightening the pressure at the pit of his stomach. How did…Was he actually turned on from being spanked? Did his mind made him focus the pain into the wrong direction? Was he a masochist or something? Those were the thoughts that went through his horrified mind as he tried to hold back his moans when the virus stroked him ever so gently, just to tease him.

            “I see we are ready now,” Thrax announced as he put a generous amount of saliva on his normal claws. “Stay still now, baby, unless you wanna bleed from inside your ass.”

            The cell shuddered to think what his Master would do as he obeyed. Staying as still as possible, he could feel Thrax’s sharp claw slowly probing him before inching his way steadily into his entrance. The searing pain from the spanking had dissipated slightly, but it was still throbbing and Ozzie winced once in a while at the touch. Thrusting in and out in a controlled pace, he inched deeper and deeper into Ozzie, but was careful not to stab his sharp tip onto the cell’s prostate, leaving Ozzie with an odd reaching sensation but never really there. The virus then put in another claw and increased the speed, holding the tips together to prevent from cutting his pet. Ozzie, instead of sobbing like a baby before, started to moan beyond his control, unconsciously wanting Thrax to go deeper and make him see stars. His drool was totally drenching the gag in his mouth and started dribbling down his chin, staining the floor he was on, but at his body position right now, he wasn’t exactly in a situation to be neat and preppy. The only thing going through his mind right now was to have his prostate banged relentlessly, giving in to his primal urges. Thrax noticed that and smirked knowingly.

            “Impatient, are we?” Thrax asked as he removed his fingers out of Ozzie’s hole, making the cell almost—and I mean _almost_ —whine in protest at the sudden emptiness. “But you are not gonna get me just yet, baby. You are still being punished, and I am not going to go easy on you this time. You’re gonna have to settle for this.”

            So saying, Thrax flipped Ozzie over into missionary position. He pushed the cell’s hips high until his head was between his knees and Ozzie could see his own buttocks as red as a monkey’s bottom, with certain areas where the blows were harder sporting black and blue. Out of the blue, he saw Thrax picking up a reddish-blue dildo probably about ¾ the size of the virus’ own rod, making the cell realize that it was the thing he heard his Master rummaging about and putting on the floor. Using his wet gag and the drool puddle he made on the floor, Thrax lubricated the dildo thoroughly.

            “Make it nice and wet and it’ll go in smoothly,” Thrax said as Ozzie watched the dildo wiped across his saliva-drenched gag to prepare it. The virus even let a little bit of drool trickle from his own tongue on the inside for good measure before sliding it into Ozzie’s puckered entrance in one hard thrust, hitting the spot straightaway.

            Ozzie lost all common sense now that the toy was in his ass ramming against where he wanted it to be. He didn’t care that Thrax continued to slap his already aching butt in intervals. He didn’t care that the virus was thrusting the toy roughly in and out his ass, rubbing against the areas where he was brutally spanked. He couldn’t care less that he was moaning, whining and groaning like a slut on steroids. All he could care was the wonderful feeling as the pain from being spanked sending jolts of pleasure down his spine and making the pit of his stomach impossibly tighter; the glorious feeling of the dildo banging against the spot that drove him bat-crazy with the white hot flashes in his mind’s eyes; and the clawed hands that wrapped around his cock and pumped it aligned with the thrusting rhythm.

            When the thrusting and pumping increased its speed for the third time since he was being subjected to this torture, it was all Ozzie could do to hold back. He widened his eyes and shook his head hard, trying to tell Thrax that he was losing control before letting go. His seed spilled all over the virus’ hand and splattered all over his chest and face because of the body position he was in. It felt like the ceiling came down on him before he got down from his high and he saw Thrax licking the cum off his hand while giving him a disapproving look.

            “You cum too quickly, baby,” Thrax growled in annoyance. “You really are like a woman. Absolutely no self-control. I’m gonna have to leave you like this for that.”

            True to his word, Thrax actually got up and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Ozzie in that position, tied like a sex prisoner with a dildo up his ass. Ozzie slowly lowered his butt and legs to the floor—wincing a little from the pain of his bruises on his baby blues—and succumbed to the lethargic effects of the afterglow.

            _Why are you doing this to me?_ Ozzie thought as he slowly closed his eyes. _What exactly am I to you?_

\--:--

            “Mmh…Th…Thrax…?”

            Ozzie slowly stirred from his goodness-knows-how-long slumber. He tried to open his eyes, but some sort of blindfold was holding them shut. He was glad to be finally rid of that uncomfortable gag in his mouth but it was replaced with another uncomfortable feeling on his arms. He tried to move them but found that they were lifted and stretched up over his head and tied by the wrist by the same course rope that was used on him for bondage before. He felt the rope tied to his right ankle as well but not exactly sure where it was tied to. A cool breeze from the motel air-conditioning told him that he was completely naked.

            “Thra…I mean, M-Master…? Master, where are you?” Ozzie asked nervously, his vision in complete darkness. His heart started beating in fear as he wondered what was going on.

            Before he could make sense of his situation, he felt something pulling at the rope tied on his ankle. He felt his leg lifted higher and higher until he felt like he was in a suspended high kick position. The pulling stopped and he could hear the end of the rope—wherever it was—tied onto to something to secure him in place.

            “Master, is that you? Where are you? What in the name of Frank is going on here?”

            “I’m right where I can see everything, baby.”

            Ozzie gasped slightly as he heard Thrax’s voice somewhere in front of him. He had no idea that Thrax was now in his bathing robes, sitting in front of him watching as he sipped his drink he bought from the motel cafeteria while the rope that tied and lifted Ozzie’s leg was fastened around one of the legs of the bed they shared. He was even unaware that Thrax was actually kidding a little when he said he was going to leave him in that bound state with the toy up his ass. He had hid at one corner outside the bedroom and waited until Ozzie had literally konked out before stripping him bare and putting him in that situation.

            “W…Where in Frank’s name are you? Why am I like this? What’s going on, Master?”

            “Patience, baby. You’ll know soon enough. You might learn to enjoy this even. This is another one of humans’ deepest, darkest secret indulgence: exhibitionism. You are put in a spot where I can see everything, right down the last strand of your hair.”

            “Wh…What…?” Ozzie stuttered. As he struggled to get out of his confines, he could somehow imagine Thrax’s sinister yellow eyes staring down at him. He could feel the eyes looking at every crevice of his body as he heard the sound of ice clinking against glass, telling him that he was having a drink while watching. Against his rationale mind telling him not to, he started thinking of Thrax the first time he saw him naked. He could just picture it now: Thrax with his slim, lithe body and his muscles pronounced at all the right places with only his manly underwear, circling him while drinking something alcoholic as he scanned him from head to toe. His imagination had made his body somehow react against his will.

            “Ah, I see you’re actually turned on by this,” Thrax’s voice rang again, still at the same distance. “Are you sure you really are a virgin when I first asked you, baby?”

            “No, that’s not true,” Ozzie denied quickly. “I’m not turned on.”

            Slowly, he could hear Thrax get from his seat and coming close to him, but not exactly very close. It was a very long silence before he was suddenly surprised by the flat side of the virus’ claw pressing against the thigh of his lifted leg. Ozzie couldn’t hold back the yelp and was shocked at his own voice. Did he actually cry an octave higher?

            “You may say that you’re not,” Thrax said as he reached up to pinch the inverted membrane on Ozzie’s chest with one hand and probed Ozzie’s manhood with the other, making the cell squirm, “but your body is the most honest thing I’ve seen so far, don’t you agree, baby?”

            “B-B-But didn’t we…well…you know…didn’t we do it already just now, Master…?” Ozzie whined, not really sure if he could go another round of cumming like crazy.

            “Are you all done with just a toy up your ass?” Thrax asked in mock surprise, licking the almost invisible concaved membrane that was the cell’s ear. “I’m not quite done with you yet. I haven’t even get to fuck you properly yet.”

            “Y-Yes, Master…I mean, do as you will to me. If…If you’re not satisfied…then I’m not satisfied…” Ozzie couldn’t believe what he just said. Those words just came out of his mouth in its own accord. Was he really a slut? A man-whore?

            “Such a demanding slave I got here,” Thrax chuckled, running his hands along and around Ozzie’s naked body. “But unless you tell me, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

            Ozzie felt so degraded. He knew Thrax was not going to be satisfied until he made him say it, made him beg for it.

            “Please, Master…Please torment me some more…”

            “Good boy.”

            With that, Thrax broke contact with Ozzie and started walking away, possibly circling him. Ozzie was left there hanging for what felt like a dark eternity, only occasionally hearing and feeling his Master out of the blue.

            “Now let’s see where should I start first…Should I give to him here,” Ozzie felt Thrax’s tongue running along the muscles on his chest, “or should I touch him here,” his hand ghosted on Ozzie’s ass, “or maybe he likes it here,” the flat side of Thrax’s warm killer claw traced along his manhood, “or maybe I should just caress him here?”

            Ozzie was driven both crazy and in fear, probably a little bit in excitement, as since he couldn’t see anything and with his awkward position, he couldn’t predict his Master’s next move. He could feel his body tingling with pleasure, the wonting rekindled on his cock but no means of releasing it because Thrax was teasing him more than he should be giving him what his body—as much as he hated to admit it—truly wanted. Thrax continued to massage his chest and buttocks, which were still hurting and probably swelling from the spanking, for a while before his hands snaked down to the cell’s cock and started pumping him in a nice and slow rhythm. It was just enough to give Ozzie the pleasure he wanted but not enough for the release he needed. Ozzie’s hips automatically gyrated, wanting to thrust at something.

            “I see someone really excited here,” Thrax’s husky voice whispered near his ear, deliberately releasing his hold on the member. “Are we going to cum now?”

            Ozzie shook his head quickly. The last thing he wanted to admit lest he got another punishment was to say that he was probably going to explode by just his Master’s touch alone.

            “No use hiding it from me, baby. I can see everything, remember? Your cock is twitching. Looks like it’s gonna blow anytime soon.”

            “M-M-Master…Please…” Ozzie threw all sense of dignity out the window. Right now, he really needed the release after all that fondling and foreplay.

            “Not just yet, baby. A true connoisseur loves to look at these poses. Drink in the sight as much as possible before they claim their prize.”

            Ozzie could hear Thrax from where he heard him the first time and he could hear the clinking of ice on glass again as he sipped his drink. He knew it. He knew he was not going to move from his spot until he heard what he wanted his slave to say. He knew he was going to sit there watching him desperately trying to reach the pinnacle of Heaven but never ever going to get there without his help in this matter. He knew he was going to make him beg, but now it was neither the time nor the situation to let pride take over him. He stopped struggling and slumped as much as his bound body allowed him to, resigned to his fate.

            “Please, Master…I beg you…Please stick it in me…Please…!”

            He heard Thrax chuckle and the sound of the drink being put down before Thrax’s clawed hands were on both his hips. He felt his other leg lifted up and wrapped around Thrax’s waist and could feel the fabric of Thrax’s bathing robes against his membrane. The huge familiar rod was slipped into him, the ridges rubbing against his inner muscles as he was entered in one slow motion. He was quite surprised to feel that Thrax’s cock was actually already lubricated beforehand and it slid it easily. Soon, after adjusting some, he felt his Master starting thrusting into him in a steady rhythm. Ozzie moaned at the movement, feeling euphoric as the virus shifted his angle just right to jab his prostate that soon sent his mind into total unadulterated lust mode.

            “I want you to really remember who you belong to,” Thrax growled as he slammed himself deeper and harder into Ozzie, venting out all his pent up strength. “Say it, Jones. Say who you belong to.”

            That was when Ozzie truly realized that, despite the harsh tones and the killer moves he made on him to punish him, he was just trying to show it in his own way that he was actually _jealous_. The virus was actually jealous that he was being a little too friendly with his brother and had paid attention more to him than to Thrax. All this spanking, sex toy-playing, bondage…it all came down to one conclusion: A jealous, insecure virus who didn’t want his over-possessiveness to be outsmarted by his brother whom his pet only just met a few days ago.

            “Y-Y-Yes, Master…I-I-I belong to you…To you only…” Ozzie breathed those words, his climax getting closer as his prostate continued to be assaulted.

            “I want you to get my damn half-brother out of your system and think of no one but me.”

            “Yes, Master…I promise…you will be the first and last person…on my mind…”

            “I want you to get it in your head that I am your Master, not Klepta, and he doesn’t boss you around; _I_ do.”

            “Yes, Master…I will do…no one’s bidding but yours…”

            “You will let no one touch you unless I allow it, and you will let no one have this body but me. Understand?”

            “Yes, Master…My body…and soul…belongs to you only…”

            With those last words, Ozzie felt the pace had increased to a speed only Thrax could match. The pit of his stomach got tighter and tighter with each thrust and each hit aimed on his sweet spot. He could take it no longer.

            “M-M-Master…! I’m going to cum…!”

            “Me too, baby…!”

            In a split second, Thrax pulled out and squeezed Ozzie’s thighs together to sandwich his member before both of them let out their seed onto each other, splattering their warm liquid until they mixed together that you couldn’t tell which ones belonged to whom. After they calmed down from their tremors, Thrax lowered him down and released his lifted leg to the floor. Ozzie had to hobble a little because he was getting a bit of pins and needles from the lack of blood on the foot. His blindfold was removed and he could see an almost blurred vision of Thrax standing right in front of him under the dim glow of the bedside table lamp as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light. His arms were still not taken down though.

            “Have you learnt your lesson now, baby?” Thrax asked, cupping his clawed hands on Ozzie’s cheeks.

            Ozzie nodded obediently, too tired from the second afterglow to say anything.

            “Will you ever smart-talk to me again?”

            Ozzie shook his head.

            “Good. Then you are forgiven.”

            So saying, the virus embraced the cell, laying the latter’s head on the crook of his neck. He held him like that for a while before letting him go, his face showing as if that act had not happened as he undid the ropes that held up his slave’s arms captive. Almost instantly, Ozzie fell forward into Thrax’s arms, too weak to stand properly, in which the virus caught him just in time.

            “It’s been a long day for you. Let’s take a bath. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”


	11. Chapter 11

            “Mm-MM! You look absolutely on fire, doll!”

            Ozzie blushed as he inched closer to Thrax at Klepta’s comment. It was the D-Day for Gregory Metropolis and everyone were gathered at dawn at the VIP reserved parking lot behind the Mole Blitz to group up and get on with the grand heist. Thrax had wanted his little pet to be dressed for the occasion, and right now, Ozzie felt that he wanted to be anywhere but there. The hooting, whooping and whistling of the germs and bacteria-s present were not exactly helping him feel any better either.

            The cell felt rather awkward wearing what he was told to wear right now: a custom-made gothic-lolita dress complete with a headdress, detachable sleeves and an inner wire petticoat to make his skirt puffed up, and mesh stockings and high platform buckled shoes to match. After the punishment he received last night, he dared not voice out his protest—not even questioning where the heck in Greg did his Master get him this outfit—and wore it without a fight, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. His mind was screaming bloody murder about how embarrassing he might look being caught dead like this, and he knew Thrax knew he was feeling that way when he caught Thrax looking at him with an amused glow on his face, his yellow eyes reading his mind through his own black orbs. Thrax took advantage of Ozzie’s morphing abilities to comb his hair, elongating it until it ran past his shoulders, and even took the liberty to help him shave his goatie and pluck off the remaining stubs, making him look like a real she-cell.

            “Shut up, runt!” Thrax growled at Klepta as he held Ozzie close to his side. “Just keep your hands off my pet and stick with the game plan! And that goes for all of you!”

            The germs and bactiera-s fell silent and nodded at Thrax’s bark, knowing better than to incur his wrath. They have witnessed firsthand Thrax’s murderous capabilities when one of them thought Thrax’s idea was ridiculous and impossible. He stated boldly out loud that he shouldn’t have fallen for “his stupid broad” and get tricked into this wild goose chase in the first place, which cost him his life as he was grabbed by the neck, dragged to the aquarium in the private room where they had their meeting and was boiled alive as Thrax dunked his head in and heated up the water at the same time. They almost felt an awed admiration towards Ozzie because of him still standing alive and kicking even though it was evident he had been with this killer virus for quite some time, and also the fact that the cell scowled at him and said that he didn’t have to do that during the incident, but only earned a pinch on the cheek and a grudging “He was insulting you, baby” grumble from the virus.

            “I just don’t understand why you had to use this kind of game plan,” Klepta huffed, running his fingers through his locks. He was also another person the germs and bacteria-s looked up to because he was the only one who dared to speak to Thrax with the same tone he did and still survive a beating. “I don’t know why you can’t just barge in and take them all out. You’re better than going around sneaking like this. And to think you’re using our doll to…”

            “Don’t. You. Dare,” Thrax growled as he grabbed Klepta by the collar. Ozzie grabbed onto his trench-coat to stop him from starting a brawl as usual, but Thrax ignored him. “This is a totally different city we are talking about, with a different set of backgrounds and different immunity system. This is not like all the small fries I’ve taken down so far, and as much as I hate to have my baby participate in this, he is very crucial in taking down this city. Just because you know every badass in this city, doesn’t mean I didn’t do my own homework as well, and the answer to this equation lies on my baby. ‘Sides, I still gotta make it big in the medical books. No harm letting them theorize that I’ve mutated into an unpredictable strain or something. Don’t question my methods. If you don’t like it, you can always just leave. I don’t need you in the first place.”

            “And let you monopolize and manipulate our doll?” Klepta said as he activated his plasma claws, daring Thrax to even _try_ to harm a hair out of him. “I’m more or less in this as much as you do, and I vowed to protect our doll from any harm, even if it means coming from a wimp like you! If this master plan of yours get our doll anywhere near any sort of danger, I will personally declaw you myself!”

            “Stop being such a knight in shining armour, runt! He’s _my_ baby, and I know what I’m doing. You’re just innit coz you wanna get into his pants!”

            “Why, I oughta…”

            “Please, Master, please,” Ozzie begged, pulling harder at Thrax’s trench-coat. “Time is running out. We better get going if we wanna get this over and done with.”

            Thrax and Klepta glared at each other with a vengeance before the elder virus let the younger go. He turned to Ozzie and stroked his hair.

            “Remember what we have planned, baby?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied timidly, knowing that there was no backing out of this now that they were all here and him in this getup.

            “Oh, wait! I got something perfect to match with that!” Klepta pointed, then made a dash to his car. A few seconds later he returned with a white with black spots puppy in his arms. Gleefully, he handed the yapping, panting pup to Ozzie.

            “What is that?” Thrax demanded, forbidding Ozzie to come close to it.

            “Oh, don’t be such an ass, wimp,” Klepta said in an annoyed tone. “It’s just a puppy.”

            “I know it’s a puppy. I’m not blind. What I meant is…”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean, wimp. Look, I got this from a friend of mine. The name’s Caesar, if I’m not mistaken, from the AIDS family. He’s got this huge big-ass dog with him that got knocked up when he was killing the previous city. When that bitch gave birth, he dumped half of the litter into my car for no particular reason other than a note saying that they were a parting gift before he left the city we were invading. I’ve been trying to give them away and everyone seemed to choose all but this one. I thought maybe Ozzie might have it. After all, it complements the dress he’s wearing.”

            “I’ve already got a pet!” Thrax growled as he shoved Klepta and the puppy away, seeming to want to start another brawl. “I don’t need another mangy mutt to feed! Get it outta my face!”

            “Why don’t you ask our doll first? See if he wants it or not?” Klepta raised a brow, testing his patience.

            “How many times must I tell you? He’s not _our_ doll, he’s _my_ baby! And my baby wouldn’t want that sort of mutt around,” Thrax turned to Ozzie, “do you, baby?”

            Ozzie looked up at Thrax, not sure what to answer. It was evident that the virus wanted him to decline Klepta’s gift, but to be honest, Ozzie had always wanted a pet ever since he saw a fire station pup when he was 13, but being poor back then, he couldn’t afford to feed himself, let alone a pet, and when he was an immunity cop, his busy schedule didn’t exactly allow him time to sit back, relax and play with one. Now he was more or less free from all obligations except to serve Thrax, it wouldn’t hurt to have a pet now…would it?

            “Do you, baby?” Thrax asked again, his eyes and tone a warning aura. Everyone present held their breath, waiting for Ozzie’s answer.

            Shockingly to them, Ozzie didn’t say anything. Occasionally he looked up with forlorn eyes at Thrax, meeting his glaring yellow orbs, before looking down again, playing with the frills of his dress, but other than that he did not—or dare not—say a word. The response Thrax gave him was venomous as his eyes widened in angry shock at Ozzie’s silent defiance, making everyone else back away, afraid to find out what the virus might do to the cell. Seeing that Ozzie was still in his timid, silent mode, not answering his question, Thrax rolled his eyes in frustration, growled and hastily grabbed the puppy from Klepta’s hand by the scruff of the neck, making the little mutt yelp slightly in pain. He shoved it onto the surprised Ozzie’s chest, who in turn tentatively wrapped his arms around it.

            “It’s your responsibility, you hear me?” Thrax barked, then leaned near Ozzie’s ear and whispered, “And I expect something outta this after this is over. That’s not a request.”

            Ozzie nodded and hugged the puppy gratefully like a kid who had just been given a Christmas present. Finally, after so many years, he finally got a pet of his own. As he allowed the puppy to lick his face, he knew Thrax was going to make him pay for this brief act of kindness (?) he bestowed upon him, but he didn’t mind. As long as he got what he wanted, he could do an all-nighter if that’s what Thrax wanted.

            “Shall we get started now?” Thrax got back to business, rounding up the gang who looked like they finally remembered how to breathe. When everyone voiced their agreement, Thrax turned to Ozzie and said, “Make me proud, baby. If any of these vermin do anything to you, tell me, alright, baby?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded before moving to the group he was assigned to. He walked past Klepta and nodded curtly.

            “Thank you, Klepta, for the puppy.”

            “No big, doll,” Klepta flashed a smile and waved his thanks away casually. “That’s what families do. So watcha gonna name it, doll? It’s a male, so give it a good one.”

            Ozzie looked at the puppy that was panting and looking up at him affectionately. It reminded him of the same look given by one of the rookies-in-training he had the sort of ‘unfortunate’ luck to babysit back in Frank. Sadly, the cell died trying to protect him as he moved in the way of a bullet that was meant for him, shot by an overzealous germ who wanted to rupture a blood vessel that might cause Frank to get a stroke. He smiled as he stroked the puppy’s head.

            “Kiaran. I’ll name him Kiaran.”

\--:--

            “Halt, all of you! You’re all under arrest!”

            The germs and bacteria-s held their hands up in surrender as they were surrounded by the immunity cells at the stomach. 10 minutes ago, the GPD received a distress call saying that germs and bacteria-s have invaded the stomach area and caused quite a disturbance by rupturing the walls of the arrival port, starting an ulcer. Their amount was so many that the security in the stomach was not enough to apprehend them all and backup came in the form of Gregory’s finest from the nearest GPD precinct.

            “Alright! Who’s the brains of the outfit here?” one of the cops demanded. When they hesitated, he pressed the mouthpiece of a gun against one of the germs’ forehead. “C’mon! I haven’t got all day! Don’t make me use unnecessary force for this!”

            The group immediately made way for Ozzie to appear. Holding the barking Kiaran in his arms and in his gothic-lolita attire with his elongated hair covering half of his face, he gave off a sort of mysteriously quiet aura as he looked at everyone present nonchalantly.

            Of course, that was all part of Thrax’s plan.

            “Who are you? State your name!” another cop demanded as he pointed his gun at Ozzie.

            Ozzie held his tongue, trying as best as he could to look unaffected by the cop’s harsh tone and the gun at his face.

            “What are you, deaf or something? I asked you your name!”

            “Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!” one of the germs stepped up to shield Ozzie from the gun.

            “Mind your own business, scum!” the first cop shoved him away back into the apprehended group. “Not gonna talk, eh? We’ll see if you’ll open your golden mouth of yours behind bars. Take them all away!”

            Within minutes, everyone found themselves in the holding cell of GPD. All the germs and bacteria-s in lockdown sat on the floor, letting Ozzie alone to have the bunk bed. The inmate who was sleeping on the top bunk was harshly dragged down and subdued to the floor with them and when he wanted to protest and put up a fight, he was immediately surrounded by creepy tough-looking scum of Greg and beaten into a pulp, being reminded painfully into submission that “their Missus always comes first”.

            Soon, they could hear the main door outside open and in came the Chief of Immunity leading the Mayor of Gregory. The Chief reminded Ozzie of a thin, lanky version of his own Chief, and the Mayor looked like someone who should make body-building a career instead.

            “She’s all yours now, Mr. Mayor,” the Chief gestured as he let the guard unlock the door to their prison. The Mayor went in front of Ozzie who sat on the bed, stole a look at the bruised and battered inmate and turned back to the cell.

            “The name’s Margo. Margo Triceps. I see you made yourself comfy here.”

            Ozzie nodded, still not saying a word.

            “So are you going to give us a name here? About who you are, what you are doing here, why you are doing this?”

            “Ain’t cha heard what we’ve told yer lackeys?” one of the bacteria-s bellowed. “Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!”

            The rest of the group hollered, confirming his statement.

            “Shut yer traps, you cruddy little…” the Chief’s words were halted by the mayor raising his hand.

            “And why is that?”

            “She ain’t got no voice, pal,” the bacteria replied. “She ain’t got nothin’ to help her speak.”

            “I see,” Mayor Margo rubbed his chin in interest. “So she’s mute. What a shame. Such a beautiful perfect creature to receive an imperfection. It’s almost a crime in itself.”

            Ozzie smiled inwardly; to think that Thrax actually succeeded in disguising him as a she-cell and that the mayor actually fell for his getup.

            “So how is it that you understand her orders anyway?” the Chief demanded. “She should have at least some form of communication to tell you what to do, if she really is the head honcho as you claim.”

            “Her eyes, man,” the bacteria replied. “Her eyes tell everything she needs to say and only we can read ‘em.”

            “Really now?” Mayor Margo eyed Ozzie from head to toe, looking into Ozzie’s eyes to try his luck in reading his mind. Ozzie could tell that the mayor was more interested with his body rather than the motive of his crime. Ozzie grimaced, wondering what it was that made everyone so infatuated with him at first glance. He remembered bragging to Leah about being a legend and that ladies lined up to divide with him, but he didn’t think it would actually come true now, and mostly with the ones of the same sex nonetheless. Was he really such a magnet for males? Were the males even gay to begin with?

            “What’s your name, smart-ass?” the Chief barked at the bacteria who did so much of the talking just now.

            “The name’s Bubba. What’s it to you, copper?”

            “We’re gonna need you to be her translator. Think you can be at least decent for a bit while we’re at it?”

            The bacteria named Bubba and Ozzie exchanged glances. Everything was going according to plan so far, just as Thrax predicted. Bubba had played his part and spoken his script well. They nodded simultaneously and Bubba turned to the Chief.

            “I’ll be good…for now.”

            “Good,” the Chief replied. “Watcha think, Mr. Mayor?”

            “I think it’s good,” Mayor Margo agreed. “We can let Bubba tag along with her. They will be put under maximum security in the brain centre, of course, until we find out what’s her real motive and we’ll deal with it from there.”

            “Right,” the Chief nodded, then made a motion with his thumb. “You! Hear that, Bubba? You’re sprung! Outta here! Go lick your Missus’s boots if you wanna.”

            Bubba got up, secretly exchanging glances with the other germs and bacteria-s to get the green light, then held out his hand for Ozzie to hold. Ozzie took it and got up, looking like a princess that needed to be waited hand and foot.

            “You gonna give us a name at least?” Mayor Margo asked, his eyes still not yet letting their hold on Ozzie go.

            Ozzie just looked sideways at Bubba. Bubba nodded. He knew what to say anyways.

            “Ozma. Her name is Ozma Lymphocyte.”

\--:--

            “Good evening, Ozma. How’re you doing?”

            Ozzie turned around to see Mayor Margo entering the lush bedroom he was in. Kiaran barked distastefully at him and was hushed by the cell.

            Ozzie didn’t start off having a room like this. The first few hours after he and Bubba was sprung out from lockdown, they were led with full immunity escorts all the way to the brain centre. There, with Bubba’s ‘translations’, they were interrogated some in the questioning room of the security department of the brain under the watchful eye of Mayor Margo. Nothing much was said to them, only that ‘Ozma’ was a T4 cell infected by a virus ‘she’ couldn’t remember who because the trauma blocked out that particular memory and ‘she’ became independent ever since, going from city to city to cause as much citywide harm as possible while she was there, but never really killing the city other than letting it destroy itself on its own. When asked why did ‘she’ do it, Bubba just crossed his arms and said that “his Missus felt like it and they don’t ask questions’, and refused to elaborate more on that, convincing everyone that ‘Ozma’ was more dangerous than ‘she’ was letting on.

            They were kept in the maximum security prison for a while before Mayor Margo started frequenting the place under the pretense of interrogation. Finally, just as Thrax predicted in their master plan, Mayor Margo decided to separate Ozzie from Bubba in order to force a true motive confession out of him, but in reality, he had kept him in a private bedroom under lock and key just right beside the mayor’s bedroom in his mansion within the brain centre. According to Thrax, if that were to happen, Bubba was to contact Klepta via mini walkie-talkie (courtesy from Klepta who got it at an electronic thrift shop) that was hidden deep within the scales of his skin to avoid detection so that they could get ready for Phase II, and as soon as Mayor Margo was out of sight with Ozzie, he did just that.

            “I hope you’ve been feeling at ease here. Sorry I had to separate you from your translator and all, but to be honest, I want to get to know you on my own terms.”

            Ozzie gave a disconcerted look, which was probably genuine enough. Mayor Margo may be curt and being a gentleman in handling him, but Ozzie could tell that he was more brawn than brain.

            “It’s too bad you can’t talk,” Mayor Margo said as he reached over to stroke Ozzie’s hair. “I’d love to hear your voice. It must be very pretty.”

            Ozzie glared at him darkly before slapping his hand away. It wasn’t an act to make himself play the part of a bad guy, although it worked to his advantage. The last thing he wanted was some grubby muscle-clad hand touching him. Mayor Margo put his hand away, unaffected by the sting of the slap.

            “It may sound a little cheesy to you, but I think I have fallen for you the first time I saw you in that cell. Can’t blame me, you looked so stunning in that dress and you got such a femme fatale diva look on you, I just couldn’t help myself. Now, I know you’ve just tried to kill Gregory and all, but if you like I can try to convince the guys to go easy on you, then work our way from there. I assure you, I can be a very good…”

            Ozzie heard enough. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Mayor Margo’s face before pointing at the door, telling him in his silent way to leave. He was right in a way; it was cheesy. How could he shamelessly claim that he was in love with him when they’ve only just met for barely 3 days, and when he knew he had just tried to make a hole in Gregory’s digestive system? Has he got some viral fetish or something? What is it with him attracting the wrong kind of attention anyway?

            “Come on, Ozma. It’s not so bad,” Mayor Margo came closer, having his arm around his waist and stroking his cheek with his free hand, pushing the yapping puppy out of the cell’s hands. “Think about it: You and I together, running this town. You don’t even have to go around destroying cities because you won’t have the need to. I’m the mayor of this city and even if I don’t succeed in getting reelected, my wealth is enough to cover us for the rest of our lives. We could start slow,” his fingers traced Ozzie’s jaw line, “then work our way in…getting to know each a little better.”

            All of a sudden—even though he couldn’t understand it himself—Ozzie felt disgusted being around him. His touches and caresses were almost the same as Thrax but somehow it didn’t feel right. He was disgusted before when others touched him, but this was ten times worse. Somehow, deep down inside him, he’d rather have Thrax’s arms around him than anyone else. He didn’t know why, but he had to get away from him.

            Without warning, Ozzie reached out and sucker-punched the mayor. While he was still stunned, he broke out of his hold and ran to the table, grabbing a random book and ramming it as hard as he could across the mayor’s other cheek, bruising him badly and making him fall to the floor. Surprisingly, instead of being pissed off by his outburst, Mayor Margo burst out laughing, his hands nursing his pulverized face.

            “Wow!” Mayor Margo exclaimed excitedly. “What a woman! I think I love you even more! You _must_ become my bride!”

            Ozzie looked at him weirdly, still arming himself with the book. _Is he for real?_ he thought. _Is he a friggin’ adrenaline junkie or something?_

            “Look, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t rush into thing,” Mayor Margo straightened himself. “Maybe we got a little on the wrong foot. Just sleep on it for a while, and give it a little thought, aye? Who knows? Maybe you might see things my way soon enough, sweetheart.”

            _Baby, doll, sweetheart…I’m sick of being called like that!_ Ozzie scowled as he flung the book at Mayor Margo, barely nicking him, as he tried to force him to leave. _I got a friggin’ name, you know?!_

“See ya soon, sweetheart,” Mayor waved and blew a kiss at him before closing and locking the door behind him, leaving alone, seething with anger and disgust.

            Kiaran whined and rubbed against Ozzie’s ankle. Ozzie looked at it for a while, sighed and picked it up, hugging it close to his chest and whispered to it so that no one would hear him talk.

            “I’m sorry I got you into this mess. This is really one heck of a mission.”


	12. Chapter 12

            Ozzie rapped on the wall that separated his room from the mayor’s. He’s been here for quite long enough; it’s about time he got it over and done with. One thing his Master demanded was time efficiency, and the faster he got it done, the sooner this would be all over.

            “Yes, is that you, Ozma?” Mayor Margo’s voice came from behind the wall. “Knock once if you are.”

            It was a dumb question, but Ozzie decided to humour him anyway. He knocked once.

            “Are you alright? Is there something wrong?”

            Ozzie knocked twice, telling him nothing’s wrong.

            “Do you need my company?”

            Ozzie knocked once.

            “I’ll be right over, sweetheart.”

            In 5 seconds flat, Mayor Margo was in Ozzie’s room. Ozzie was sitting on the bed waiting for him, and made Kiaran stay under the bed and be quiet beforehand.

            “Have you considered my offer?” Mayor Margo asked as he sat beside Ozzie, moving closer to him.

            Ozzie just gave him an uncertain smile.

            “Is that a yes or no, sweetheart?”

            Ozzie leaned forward a little, puckering his lips suggestively.

            “I take that as a yes then.”

            Ozzie waited until Mayor Margo closed his eyes and was almost an inch away from his face before he took out secretly a capsule hidden within the hem of his headdress and whispered just enough for the mayor to hear.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “Huh? What?”

            While the mayor was caught unaware, Ozzie quickly slipped the capsule into his puckered mouth and held him down by the mouth with both his hands, forcing him to swallow it. Mayor Margo’s eyes widened in bewilderment as Ozzie put his full weight onto his hands, keeping him down on the bed and had one of his knees holding down one of the mayor’s thighs. Ozzie could see his pupil dilated in disbelief as he saw the ‘she-T4 cell’ he thought was mute whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again to him, forcing him to bite down and swallow the capsule. Foam started forming around his mouth as the capsule’s deadly poison took effect. After much struggling, Mayor Margo soon went limp, the capsule he was force-fed with finally done its job. Ozzie made sure that he was no longer breathing before he coaxed Kiaran out from under the bed and took the keys and pass card the mayor kept religiously in his breast pocket.

            He knocked out the guards (thanks to his immunity training) in front of the door of his room they were guarding and skulked his way through the mansion, taking down people in stealth mode as he went. He went down to the basement of the mansion that connected directly into the mayor’s office, retracing his steps as he remembered when he was taken away from Bubba. As soon as he got there, he waited until the mayor’s aide clocked out for dinner before going to the main computer system. With what little knowledge he had about computers and the mayor’s pass card to access the mainframe, he managed to open all doors of the maximum security prison to let Bubba out and, watching for the blinking of the tracking device tagged on Bubba by the guards when they were put in the maximum security prison on the map of the brain and also the monitor screen of the security camera feed, he timed the walkways well to lock and unlock the area for Bubba’s easy getaway from the authorities’ pursuit.

            Once he saw Bubba made it out of the brain centre, Ozzie quickly made a dash to the hypothalamus chamber based on a printout he made on the map. Using the pass card, he entered the chamber, knocked out the professors present (apologizing at the same time) and walked towards the barrier that contained the rotating chromosome with the hypothalamus DNA in it. Looking at his own dimly glowing hand, he remembered what Thrax told him when he was helping him with his getup the other day…

* * *

**_FLASHBACK BEGINS…_ **

_“Why am I doing this again?” Ozzie couldn’t help asking as Thrax picked up the hairbrush and started combing._

_“Because, baby, you are the best in the undercover business,” Thrax replied. “I must admit, baby, you almost had me fooled there the first time I saw you in The Zit. The fact that you managed to enter the room and listen in throughout my whole plan without anyone knowing or suspecting who you are proves that you’ve got what it takes, that you are an expert in this. Of course, if your mouth hadn’t run out on you, you might just succeed in ratting me out.”_

_“I can’t help it if my words blow off my cover,” Ozzie pouted._

_“That’s why I want you to stay quiet when you’re doing this. Let Bubba do all the talking and keep your mouth shut. You dig, baby?”_

_“I dig. I dig real deep.”_

_Thrax was almost done with his hair when he smirked and asked, “You were really good when I told you to wear this dress. Not even a peep from you at all. Did you really enjoy your punishment I give you?”_

_Ozzie pouted again, not wanting to answer that question. Thrax chuckled at Ozzie’s reaction and took the cell’s chin, turning him to face him._

_“I’m sure you’re just dying to know why I want you in this getup.”_

_Ozzie shifted his gaze downwards and nodded._

_“Well, while Klepta’s being a glory-hog rounding people up for me, I did my own research. Turns out our Mayor of Gregory Metropolis is a sucker for dressed-up girls. Girls in costumes, in special dresses, in flamboyant fancy clothes, etc…these are the girls that turn him on. In fact, he even announced it publicly during interviews that if he were to choose a bride, he’d want someone dressed in his favourite gothic-lolita outfit. Turned off a lot of suitors that way that he claimed he’d marry anyone that stepped in with a frilly dress. All of Klepta’s people are hard-ass who have no elegance whatsoever, and as much as I loathe it, you are the only person I could think of to fit for the position.”_

_“Do I look like a girl to you?” Ozzie asked, trying not to sound too annoyed lest it offended Thrax and got himself another punishment._

_“Once I’m done with you, you would,” Thrax said. He fished out a whitish capsule from his trench-coat’s inner pocket and waved it in front of Ozzie, “See this? It’s your time to shine, baby. I want you, once you managed to infiltrate into the brain, to feed this to the mayor and once he’s down, you get to take the hypothalamus DNA for me.”_

_Ozzie widened his eyes in shock. He didn’t need to be a genius to know what was inside the capsule._

_“You…You want me to kill him?! I-I-I can’t do that!”_

_“Whatever he’s gonna do to you later, you might wanna do it. Besides, you got no choice. This is the only way we can get out of this.”_

_“I…I don’t know…” Ozzie hesitated, knowing from Thrax’s tone that he meant business, but still not exactly at ease with the idea of killing somebody. True, he had killed a few germs in his line of work, but it was his duty. Killing innocent people wasn’t exactly in his immunity training._

_“Just treat it like you’re getting rid of a criminal. Do we have to go through this again?”_

_Ozzie knew exactly what that meant. He shook his head._

_“Good boy,” Thrax smiled, then slipped the capsule into the hem of his headdress. “Just close your eyes and get it over with. It’ll get easier every time.”_

_“But how am I gonna get the DNA? I’m not exactly a virus like you. I might probably get my hand fried if I try to reach out to get it.”_

_“True, you’re not, but you’re not exactly a pure cell either. You’re partially infected, remember? That viral DNA I gave you does more than just glow, you know. Just stick your hand in and go with the flow. I guarantee you you’ll be alright. Now stay still. I’m gonna help you get rid of that goatie of yours…”_

**_FLASHBACK ENDS…_ **

* * *

            Ozzie took a deep breath and put Kiaran down. Cracking his knuckles, he heaved a sigh and rolled up his sleeve a little.

            “Here goes nothing.”

            Closing his eyes, he stuck his hand in. Surprisingly, he passed through the barrier as if it was nothing. In fact, the only thing he felt as his hand inched closer and closer towards the chromosome was like sticking his hand into a freezer. It didn’t hurt as bad as he thought, and his hand was not burning or peeling or anything, but it did feel like he just stuck himself into a bucket of ice and was getting a sort of minor frostbite. He waited until the chromosome rotated in the right angle before he, imitating Thrax, plucked out the familiar hypothalamus DNA from it. As he pulled out with the DNA in his hand, the chromosome started to move out of alignment and he could hear the familiar beeping of the monitor as the temperature started climbing upwards.

            “Woah,” Ozzie breathed, almost amazed at his own feat. “Didn’t think I could actually do this…”

            His musings were cut short by a sudden push from behind, sending him sprawled over the floor and making him drop the DNA. Kiaran barked at the perpetrator but yelped in pain as it sounded like it was being hit. Ozzie turned to see in shock that it was Mayor Margo, alive and kicking on him, looking at him with vengeance in his eyes.

            “You bitch! You sneaky little bitch!”

            “Wha…How…? I saw you…”

            “Dead?” Mayor Margo finished his words. “Yeah, you did. For a good 10 seconds, as a matter of fact. But I didn’t get to this built without special training, you know. I was in the army barracks before I became Mayor. I was trained in the most rigorous exercise program ever, and that included getting myself immune to all poisons fed through me. It was a tough job being forced to drink glasses upon glasses of stuff that would kill an average cell in seconds, but I was forced to be one with poison, to handle the deadly effects and play possum before forcing my body to assimilate and recover from it. That stupid little capsule wasn’t enough to kill me, sweetheart, and I’m going to show you how strong I can really be!”

            “But I’m a he-cell!” Ozzie shouted as he struggled with him. “I’m not some prissy little she-cell who has a thing for frilly dresses! I’m a guy, for Frank’s sake!”

            “You think I didn’t know?!” the mayor bellowed as he slapped Ozzie on both cheeks. “You think I don’t see through you that you’re a guy? What kind of mayor do you think I am? Do you think I care what gender you are?! You turned me on, and that’s enough for me! But you…you betrayed me! You tried to kill me! After all I promised you, you still tried to kill me!”

            “I said I was sorry!”

            “Sorry ain’t good enough for me! I’m gonna make you sorry you were even born!”

            Before he knew it, Mayor Margo started pulling up his skirt and had his hand on the waistband of his underwear, ready to peel it down. Ozzie screamed and struggled, trying to push him away. He sucker-punched his face a few times and had succeeded in getting away, only to be grabbed and pulled back to the floor again, having those body-building hands roam all over his body and lips touching his membrane everywhere. Kiaran tried to get back to its feet and pulled at the mayor’s pants but it was kicked away almost immediately. When Mayor Margo literally tore the underwear off and pinned his clenched hands down to the counter that had all the dozens of thermometers stuck on the gel-like pockets, he knew he was done for.

            _No…No…No, no, NO!!!_ Ozzie screamed inwardly. _Not again!!! Not that…!! Please, not that…!!!_

Suddenly, he heard a loud gurgling sound. He opened his tear-filled eyes and saw a familiar glowing claw pierced through Mayor Margo’s chest. The venom traveled quickly throughout the mayor’s body and immediately he became a melting pile of red goo on the floor, screaming and writhing in his gurgling voice as he went, revealing his savior standing behind him as he flicked the goo off his claws distastefully.

            “Sorry I’m late, baby.”

            Ozzie couldn’t control himself. He quickly got up and flung himself onto Thrax’s chest, crying and bawling his heart out. He had never felt so relieved to see Thrax ever in his life, and in this circumstance, he was almost glad that the virus showed up just in time. He felt Thrax’s arms wrap around him and hushed him, stroking his back tenderly.

            “Shh, shh, shh, it’s over, baby. It’s over.”

            “He…He tried to…He tried to…” Ozzie sobbed, unable to finish his words. Thrax hushed him again.

            “I know, baby. I’m sorry I’m late.”

            Kiaran whined, hobbling towards the Master-Slave duo, retrieving the hypothalamus DNA Ozzie dropped. Thrax smirked and took the DNA from its mouth before patting the puppy.

            “Good boy. Guess you made yourself useful after all.”

            “Did I miss anything?”

            Thrax scowled at Klepta’s unceremonious appearance. The younger virus saw Ozzie’s tear-stained face and rushed to him quickly.

            “Oh my Greg, doll! Did that grubby mayor do anything to you? Did he hurt you in anyway?”

            “Not helping, runt,” Thrax growled as he shoved him away from Ozzie while slipping in the DNA into his chain. “He’s lucky I got here before he had the chance to do anything. I would’ve enjoyed torturing him if we weren’t running out of time.”

            “Well, we’re gonna run late if we don’t get outta here,” Klepta said. “The feds are onto us, and we can only hold them back so much.”

            “Right,” Thrax nodded, then turned to Ozzie, “Pick up the mutt, baby. We’re springing outta here.”

            Ozzie nodded and picked Kiaran up before Thrax carried him bridal style to Klepta’s car which was parked just outside the brain centre entrance. There, many of the workers and guards were either knocked out or taken down by the group of germs and bacteria-s and by Thrax’s and Klepta’s killer claw. A car chase ensued, but they managed to ditch the dispensable lackeys and made their way to one of the sweat glands near the armpit where the mole was situated. They hopped into one of the droplets of the salty sweat that was starting to leak out of Gregory, held their breaths and waited for the sweat to trickle out and get absorbed by the shirt sleeve. Moments later, they found themselves being discarded out with the shirt and looked to see Gregory unconscious on the floor of a bar being surrounded by his friends, one of them trying to call the ambulance while another tried to fan him to cool down his temperature. They could only assume that their heist happened while he was out having happy hour with his friends.

            “Got a whole load of people here,” Klepta said. “Gonna get into any of them?”

            “No,” Thrax growled as if his brother had just said something ridiculous. “I’ve made it into the medical books now. Anyone in contact with the body I killed will automatically be sent to quarantine. We’re gonna have to split this joint.”

            “There’s a stray cat over there,” Ozzie pointed at the said stray cat who was lounging around outside the window of the bar.

            “Baby, that’s just what we needed,” Thrax grinned and pecked at the cell’s forehead.

            With the help of the crowd in the bar, they leapt from one set of clothes to another, picking up momentum until they were high enough for Thrax to spread his trench-coat and glide around the air. Klepta, on the other hand, relied on his agility and springing step and soon, both of them made their way out of the bar, through the window and onto the cat’s fur before camping out on one of the cat’s pores of its skin.

\--:--

            “Doll, doll, you OK?”

            “Baby, baby, wake up. Wake up, baby.”

            Ozzie snapped his eyes opened, tears fell freely out of them. He just had the most awful dream of seeing Finn, Mayor Margo and all the germs and bacteria-s he had met throughout their journey gathered around them, lust strewn all over their face as they started tearing every fabric that was on Ozzie’s body, with Thrax watching them do their thing and laughing maniacally, not doing anything to save him. At the sight of Klepta and Thrax looking down at him as soon as he woke up, he instinctively cowered away, screaming for them to leave him alone.

            “Get away! Get away from me! Get away from me!! Don’t touch me!!!”

            “Shh, shh, baby,” Thrax wrapped his arms around the struggling cell, trying to calm him down. “It’s just a nightmare, baby. It’s just a nightmare.”

            “Look what you’ve done to our doll, you wimp!” Klepta scolded. “I _told_ you it was a bad idea having him involved in this!”

            “Shut the fuck up, runt! I told you I know what I’m doing! I just didn’t expect…”

            “That Mayor Margo would try to do him in, innit? That the mayor tried to make a whore outta him, innit? It’s all your friggin’ fault he’s like this!”

            Ozzie’s bawls stopped their bickering. The older virus went back to try and console him, with Kiaran whining and rubbing its head against him to comfort him. Thrax rocked him back to sleep again as he whispered “It’s OK, I’m here” over and over again to Ozzie’s ear. As soon as Ozzie eased down and started snoring slightly again, Thrax made Kiaran lie down in Ozzie’s arms before the two viruses made their way towards the cat’s tail for a breather.

            “This is friggin’ ridiculous, man,” Klepta sighed. “This feels like Trisha all over again…”

            “Don’t you fucking bring that bitch up again!” Thrax snapped. “This has nothing to do with Trisha and you know it!”

            “Isn’t it? When was the last time you made Trisha smile? When was the last time you actually let Trisha feel happy about your relationship with her? All she could think of was how dangerous it was to love you, and always wake up with nightmares of her being prosecuted and seeing you being killed by the feds, and we had to ease her fears just like what we’re doing with our doll right now! Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?!”

            “Stop calling my baby _our_ doll! He’s not your pet, he’s _mine_! Stop talking as if he belongs to you!”

            “Get it into your thick skull, Thrax, that if he were to stay with you, he’s gonna be family, which means he’s my family as well, so I get to choose what to fucking call him! You’re still the spoilt brat, aren’t you? Big Mama’s little boy, always wanting everything for yourself…”

            “You think I’m that selfish?!” Thrax growled as he grabbed his brother’s collar. “You think I _always_ get what I want?! You have no idea what I have been through with Big Mama! You have no _fucking_ idea! Don’t try talking to me like you know who I really am!”

            “I would if you just tell me!” Klepta growled back, struggling to pry the elder virus’ hand away. “Big Mama had always loved you more than everyone else! She always treated our other moms like shit, including us when we were kids! _You_ have no fucking idea what _we_ have to go through to win her approval!”

            “Oh, really now? Is that why she’s always whipping me and beating me black and blue in private, saying that it’s to toughen his boy up, to be as strong as his old man? Is that why she killed every younger sibling I had and made it look like an accident, just so that no one will surpass me and take over my place as the greatest virus next to his old man? She made me watch as she suffocated little Tiara with a pillow, made me watch as she drowned little Thaka in the bathtub, made me watch as she slit little Tkokhol bit by bit until he died by just the pain alone. I cared for each and every one of my little baby siblings and she just killed them like they were nothing to her, even though she was the one to carry them to term and gave birth to them! She made go through the toughest training, making pain my most routine practice to assimilate, to cope, to live with and be a part of me. You all had it _way_ easy, runt! The way she treated you paled in comparison with how she treated me, so don’t try to justify yourself with me, because you have no FUCKING idea!”

            Klepta widened his eyes, seeing this side of his elder brother for the first time. And to think Thrax’s mother, the matriarch of the sisterhood in their father’s harem, always slapping him and calling him, his siblings and his mother a pebble in a shoe, a growth that shouldn’t be there, and all the other things she did to their other mothers and half-siblings were the worst.

            “Is that why you do these things to our doll?” Klepta probed again. “To make yourself feel a little bit of power? To make you feel like you have never lost Trisha? For all I can see, you’re treating our doll like a Trisha-substitute…”

            He knew he had went too far when Thrax sucker-punched him to the ground. Both the brother brawled and fought for dominance, forcing either of them to keel and surrender. As Thrax landed blow after blow on Klepta, he roared like he never roared before.

            “Jones is NOT Trisha! I never treated Jones like Trisha! Jones is nothing like Trisha! He’s better than her! He’s the only person who actually noticed me where no one else from any other city would or could have! He was the only one to know I _exist_ , to know that I was there, and for the first time, figured me ALL OUT! He was the only one I fought with head to head with and was the only one who ever gave a damn about me! He tolerated me, endured me, obeyed me, and yet continued to defy me at the same time! He was the only person that made me real, that made me believe that there is such thing as humanity, passion and love! He made me finally care about something in my WHOLE FUCKING LIFE! Don’t you fucking DARE to compare him with Trisha!!”

            “So that means you love him, don’t cha!” Klepta shouted back, his face looking glad that he finally broke his brother and made him say it. “Big Mama’s little boy finally capable of falling in love with somebody!”

            “Yes, yes, YES!! I love him!!! Is that what you want to hear?! I love him more than I thought I loved Trisha!!! I FUCKING LOVE HIM!!! Satisfied?!”

            Klepta stopped fighting back, smiling and holding his hands up in surrender. Thrax let out a frustrated growl and landed a last punch on his nose before tearing himself away from him.

            “Don’t you fucking dare repeat this in front of my baby, or I swear…”

            “Fine, fine, I’ll keep your little stupid secret. Though I can guarantee you it’s gonna leak sooner or later.”

            Klepta glanced knowingly at Ozzie who quickly closed his eyes shut. Thrax was none the wiser, assuming the cell was too deep in sleep to hear them arguing.

            If only he knew Ozzie had heard every word.

\--:--

            The sun finally shone and the cat they were on stretched itself awake. As it went to get the grub for the day, Klepta had announced to the duo that he was gonna split.

            “You sure you can’t stay for a while?” Ozzie asked.

            “Nah, cats ain’t my thing, doll. I prefer having dogs spreading me around rather than the felines. ‘Sides, I might get lucky scoring with someone as cute as you in my next body. Maybe the next time we meet, I’d get a doll of my own.”

            “Yeah, whatever, runt,” Thrax growled. “Get going already. Your stench is killing us.”

            “So, doll, whaddaya say? Gave my words any thought?” Klepta asked Ozzie, completely ignoring his ranting brother.

            “What thought? What did he say to you, baby?”

            Ozzie looked at Klepta for a while, hesitating a little, then took Thrax’s arm, not looking directly at him. Klepta smiled knowingly.

            “Alright, doll. I get the point. You take care of Kiaran for me now. I wanna see it big and strong like its Mama the next time we meet.”

            “There won’t be a next time,” Thrax warned. “Get outta here.”

            “Adios, doll,” Klepta saluted before leaping off from the cat’s tail. “See ya soon, wimp!”

            And just like that, Klepta disappeared out of sight. Thrax, after making sure the runt of his brother had finally gone, grabbed Ozzie by the waist, giving the cell a demanding look.

            “What did he mean about giving his words a thought?”

            “N…Nothing…” Ozzie blushed, holding Kiaran tight as if he was wishing the little puppy could save him from this predicament. Thrax noticed the puppy and touched his lips on the cell’s ear.

            “I’m still gonna get something out of this, ain’t I, for letting you keep that mutt?”

            Ozzie blushed even harder, remembering the deal they made at The Mole Blitz in exchange for allowing him to have a pet.

            “Y-Y-Yes, Master…”

            “Well, we’re gonna get started now, aren’t we?”

            So saying, the familiar leash was tied around Ozzie’s collar and he was dragged into the cat’s body through the cat’s ear, leading him to his inevitable fate.


	13. Chapter 13

            Being in cat city wasn’t as bad as in rat city, but the inhabitants there were much more cautious and a little smarter than those in dog city. They were met with suspicion at first, and were directed straight to the brain centre to be questioned by the mayor there, but lucky for them, most stray cats carry rabies and the person who ran cat city was from the Rabies family, which probably was the right decision for Klepta to leave since Klepta was known for going solo. Knowing that Thrax was a fellow virus, Luka—the Rabies virus—allowed him and Ozzie to stay as long as they liked.

            The price of letting Ozzie keep Kiaran as a pet didn’t come cheap. As soon as they were escorted to one of Luka’s guesthouse, Ozzie was first asked to blow him and was made to drink in every last drop of the virus’ cum, which, to Ozzie’s surprise, was rather warm and bittersweet to the taste. Then the next day, he was forced to have a dildo shoved up his ass and the familiar double vibrators tied and sandwiched around his cock. Both toys were turned on and vibrated in different levels in intervals, depending on Thrax’s control over the remote, and poor Ozzie was made to do his usual chores with those things on him, forbidden to take them off or try to pleasure himself without his express permission. It wasn’t easy doing the washing, making the virus’ meals, helping the virus bathe and the like with the double assault of the toys on both sides, and he barely made it by the end of the day before he was reduced to a horny, aroused mess as he fell to the floor in a fetal position, begging and gasping in his tears for mercy, pleasing his Master to let him have his release. Thrax, of course, smiled in his devilish ways and made him grovel for a while before taking off the toys and replaced them with the cell’s much needed cock and hand, thrusting and pumping him until Ozzie was literally screaming his completion until his voice was hoarse.

            “I’ve decided on my next target,” Thrax announced after staying in cat city for a day and a half. Ozzie, who was grooming Kiaran, looked up, curious.

            “So soon, Master?”

            “You’re not expecting to stay in cat city forever, are you?” Thrax asked as he ran his fingers through his dreads.

            “Well, not really…” Ozzie replied timidly. “I mean, it’s pretty alright settling down in cat city or dog city without having to worry about skulking around afraid that people might stake us or something for being a dangerous virus or something, though I don’t exactly fancy rat city…”

            “Have you forgotten who I am, Jones? I’m Red Death who made it into the medical books. I go around spreading death, destruction and fear. I’m not about to stay put and act dormant like some silly volcano sleeping away when it’s supposed to be erupting. I am terror personified, and I’m going to make mankind remember me till kingdom come.”

            “Yes, Master. I understand,” Ozzie sighed quietly enough not for the virus to hear. To ask Thrax to stay permanently in a city without causing a ruckus was like asking an amputee city to grow a brand new limb on the affected area; it’ll be too good to be true.

            “I’ve decided to cause a bit of a panic on a bigger scale this time,” Thrax continued his plan. “I want the medical books to rank me even higher on the danger level, probably equivalent or higher than the deadly viruses that have existed so far. I plan to send an entire place in lockdown and its people in total fear and paranoia.”

            “How’re you gonna do that?”

            “Simple. By taking down the head honcho of a village, or maybe even a small town, if we’re lucky.”

            “But…But if you cause a whole town to panic and go into quarantine mode, how’re we gonna get out?”

            “Big Daddy Thrax will find a way. Don’t you worry your tail-cell off, baby. We’ll be alright.”

            Ozzie looked down, still worried. He had seen and heard about cases outside of Frank where viruses tried to make it big in the viral scale, only to end up defeated due to quarantines and new vaccines or antidotes created while they were trapped in an environment where victims were limited and elimination was inevitable. What if they couldn’t make it out in time before the quarantine came in? What if they ended up in a really tough city and didn’t succeed in killing it? What then? Thrax noticed the look on the cell’s face and took his chin.

            “Do you trust me?”

            “Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied half-heartedly.

            “Not convincing enough,” Thrax gave an unsatisfied tone and repeated word by word, “Do – you – trust – me?”

            Ozzie stared into Thrax’s eyes and saw the same pleading emotion for a split second, just like the day Thrax asked him the same question when he was about to abort Finn’s spawn. Ozzie sighed.

            “You are my Master. I trust you.”

            “Good boy.”

            With that, he gave the cell a deep, passionate kiss on the lips before getting up to leave. Ozzie looked up at Thrax questioningly, his face still a little flushed from the kiss.

            “Wh…Where…Where are you going, Master?”

            “To see Luka. I need to discuss some things with her.”

            “Shouldn’t I come along?”

            “No. You stay put, baby. You just look after that mutt of yours. This is something I wanna do alone.”

            Giving a last peck on the cell’s forehead, Thrax left, leaving Ozzie wondering what was that all about.

\--:--

            Ozzie was woken up roughly around dawn by his Master’s incessant shaking.

            “Huh…?? Hm…Wh…What…?” Ozzie mumbled groggily as he tried to get his mind in focus.

            “Get up, Jones,” Thrax ordered as he put on his trench-coat. “We’re leaving.”

            “To where?” Ozzie quickly got off bed and got dressed in his clothes while picking Kiaran up at the same time.

            “Out next city. We’ve found the best candidate.”

            After making sure he brought along the other clothes Thrax gave him (the gothic-lolita dress included), Ozzie quickly followed behind the virus. There was a limo already waiting outside the guesthouse that took them straight to the bladder express. Bidding goodbye to Luka who drove and escorted them personally, they took the express as quickly as they could and were peed out onto the grass of a park before the cat was shooed away by the park janitor, in which the duo latched onto his clothes for a while before entering the body.

            The park janitor was quite old with its inhabitants inside the body already prepared for the day the body would fail on them, and being not exactly very keen on body hygiene despite being a cleaner of parks was not really helping the city’s wellbeing at all, so for Thrax, he didn’t even need to break a sweat infiltrating the brain centre and killing the body. The only setback was that the park janitor lived alone, so it took about almost a week before the stench attracted the public to notice that they had a dead body in the neighbourhood.

            But that wasn’t the best candidate Thrax had meant.

            According to the address on the envelopes of the bills from the park janitor’s mail, they were directly in a small village somewhere within the City of Newcastle, Western County of Wyoming, and they were waiting for the head of the village to arrive and take care of the body they killed. Unbeknownst to Ozzie, Thrax had Luka manually control the cat so that they could drop them off at the nearest small town after telling her of his plans. Luka wasn’t exactly willing to do so at first because she had ambitions of big scale infections herself, but after Thrax presented her with a priceless cellular diamond necklace he swiped from the brain centre jewelry museum while he was in Gregory Metropolis, she balked to Thrax’s request, claiming she’ll do this “just this once”.

            Throughout their journey from the bar in Buffalo where Thrax killed Gregory all the way to Wyoming, Thrax had not once allowed Ozzie to follow him anywhere, not even to the mayor’s office as he monitored Luka’s progress, making the cell stay where he was or just hang out around the area with Kiaran or do his chores. Ozzie had not dared to ask or question his whereabouts for fear of a scolding or a punishment, but in truth, Thrax did not want him around because he didn’t want him to know he gave an expensive present to a woman that was technically and originally meant for his pet. Ozzie may not dare to voice out his jealousy (if he had any) about it if he had found out, but somehow, surprisingly even to Thrax, the guilty bug would send a painful pang to his heart whenever Ozzie looked at him with his quiet questioning eyes about where he had been or what he had done for the day, and his mind immediately thought of Luka who had demanded a price for her services, and thought that Ozzie was better off left in the dark about the deal.

            Anyway, as soon as the park janitor’s death was made known, the village head, known to everyone as Jackson, showed up and made the immediate arrangements required. Being a small village, the awareness of the existence of the Red Death was not yet made to the townsfolk, but since police investigations revealed no foul play, they were rest assured that the park janitor’s death was of natural causes, which gave many obvious conclusions for them like heart attack, simple cardiac arrest, stroke or old age; any ailment that could befall on a more-than-half-a-century-old man. Still, they would require a full autopsy report on the cause of death just to give the next of kin, who lived somewhere off the States, a peace of mind, and the best way to get it was to send it to the morgue at the nearest big city. The report was predicted to be complete in about 3 days top or more, giving Thrax his first deadline after so many weeks of taking his sweet time in the last few cities since Frank.

            Thanks to the townsfolk’s ignorance, Jackson did not really take much precaution in manhandling the park janitor’s body. Thrax and Ozzie quickly leapt onto Jackson’s hand when he helped the medics to carry the body onto the stretcher and into the body bag. Jackson unconsciously scratched an itch on his nose before he washed his hands after moving the body and that gave the duo a chance to slip into the body undetected, avoiding the immunity cells on patrol there and sneaking into the city using a car that belonged to one of the workers in the nasal dam who, lucky for them, didn’t have the decency to take out the keys from the ignition.

            Jackson County was in an equal comparison with Gregory Metropolis, with its usual hustle-bustle of an averagely healthy city. Thrax would have to, again, plan carefully how to infiltrate the brain centre without attracting too much attention, and get it done within 3 days.

            As usual, Ozzie became a recruiting accessory for Thrax. After snooping around in the city, the duo found out that Jackson had a mass amount of freckles about his skin, and when there are freckles, there are melanin cells who are considered a high-class aristocrat society because they are the ones who decide the fair and darkness of the city’s skin and considered a sort of pioneers for preventing albinism. And when there are high-class aristocrats, there was bound to be certain functions held by the eccentrics, one of them being a sort of liaison function to promote friendship between cells, germs and bacteria-s who have made peace with the city and lived out their lives as honest citizens of Jackson, and that was exactly the kind of function held by the Pheomelanin family who specializes in the lip area in which Ozzie needed to infiltrate and look for recruits.

            The theme of the function was costume party, so Ozzie’s little gothic-lolita outfit came to good use. Disguised again as Ozma Lymphocyte, he went to the party, using his charms at the ushers to let him in without an invitation card (claiming that he lost it after a late night romping). Inside, it looked almost like those magnificently extravagant ballrooms he used to see in the movies whenever Frank had one of those once-in-a-blue-moon medieval fantasy dreams from his subconscious mind after watching movies of such genres. The people there were dressed smartly in the nines in costumes of their choice, from superheroes to medieval characters to fantasy outfits and the like, and no one seemed to bat too much of an eyelid seeing Ozzie in his gothic-lolita dress, which was a bit of a comfort to him because he was getting a little sick of being the centre of attraction all the time. As he looked around searching for any potential recruits, he failed to notice someone incoming in front of him and accidentally bumped into him.

            “Oh, excuse me, miss,” the person Ozzie bumped into apologized first.

            “No, no, it’s my fault,” Ozzie replied using a woman’s pitch as best as he could, momentarily forgetting the Golden Rule from his Master of keeping his mouth shut. “I should’ve…”

            Ozzie’s words stopped short when he looked up to see the person he had bumped. The red and yellow complexion, the big red cross on a bulky chest plate, the huge heavy hand cannon, the gel-cap head, the smart English accent…there was no doubt about. He’d recognize the features anywhere.

            _But…But how…?_ Ozzie thought in bewilderment. _Why? What the heck is he doing here?! How…?!_

            “Did I hurt you in anyway, miss?” the person asked in concern. Ozzie felt almost relieved that he didn’t recognize him. “I’ve been known to cause a few lesions on people because of my built…”

            Ozzie backed away before the person could put his hand on his shoulder, his eyes in total disbelief and shock. _How did he survive…?!_ Silent frantic questions filled his mind as he continued to avoid the person’s advances. _Frank is dead! He was supposed to be waiting for me there the last I saw him! He’s should’ve died along with the Chief, with Leah…with Frank! How did he get into this body…?_

            “Are you sure you’re alright, miss?” the person continued to probe, genuinely worried of the way Ozzie was looking at him.

            _No,_ Ozzie thought. _I can’t let him know who I am! I can’t let him see me like this right now, definitely not with Thrax even! I gotta split!_

            “Is there something the matter?” a melanin cell approached them, possibly someone from the Pheomelanin family.

            “Nothing, Mr. Pheo. It’s just that I accidentally…huh? Where did she go?” the person’s voice trailed off when he saw Ozzie no longer standing in front of him.

            “What’s this I hear?” the cell called Mr. Pheo smiled mischievously. “Did you just say ‘she’? Could this be true: out dear little sourpuss cold pill bodyguard here is actually seeing a _girl_? This calls for a celebration!”

            While the so-called cold pill spouted a string of denials, Ozzie was away from eyeshot, blending into the crowd as he escaped from the function. Quickly, he met up with Thrax who was waiting at a nearby high-class bar. The virus was genuinely surprised to see his pet empty-handed, and needless to say he wasn’t exactly the happiest person in the world. He got up and took the cell by the hand harshly before dragging him into one of the cubicles in the men’s room, locking the door behind him.

            “Where is the cavalry, Jones?” Thrax demanded, taking hold of Ozzie’s shoulders and shook him a little.

            Ozzie couldn’t answer, still unable to get over the shock of seeing someone whom he thought was supposed to be six feet under, or in this case, in flames and ashes.

            “What’s wrong, baby?” Thrax noticed the look on Ozzie’s face and softened his tone a little. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

            “I…I did…I…I…”

            It took all of Ozzie’s willpower to say what he wanted to say without feeling stupid and scared shitless.

            “I saw Drix.”


	14. Chapter 14

            Ozzie sighed as he walked Kiaran while at the same time trying to find the right ingredients for dinner. His Master had ordered him to make a lavish feast for tonight because he was going to bring in the guys and treat them for dinner while he discussed the grand heist plan to them and Ozzie wanted to get the best stuff for dinner lest he gets another punishment for embarrassing Thrax for serving unsatisfactory food. Though he had to do a little bit of budgeting because the money Thrax gave him wasn’t exactly unlimited, and he could tell people around here don’t take credit for goods sold.

            Ever since he revealed who he saw at the function, Thrax decided to take over the recruiting business. He did not believe him at first and insisted that it was his imagination, making him go back to the function and finish the job. Ozzie tried convincing himself as well that the virus could be right, but when he saw him again chit-chatting with the host of the function and when the cold pill caught sight of him and engaged in a brief conversation with him, apologizing profusely for bumping and scaring him, Ozzie knew it was not in his mind and that it was Drix standing in front of him in the flesh. Even Thrax, who was hiding at a corner a few meters away from the Pheomelanin family mansion waiting for Ozzie, was finally convinced when he saw Drix helping the host Mr. Pheo to send off the guests after the function ended, chatting a little longer at the door with Ozzie before the petrified cell ran back into Thrax’s arms shivering like he had just seen the scariest thing in his whole life. That was when Thrax decided to do this on his own and told Ozzie to prepare the little 4-fat chalet they were living in as best as possible and get dinner done before he brought the cavalry home.

            “What else do you think I should get, Kiaran?” Ozzie asked as he scanned through the grocery list to see what he had missed. “You think maybe we should get some ice-cream for dessert? The guys might like something a little nice, cold and sweet for dessert after a long day.”

            Kiaran yapped, seemingly agreeing as its mouth watered at the word ‘ice-cream’.

            “Alright, ice-cream it—WOAH!!”

            His words were cut off by a sudden pull on his shoulder. He was harshly shoved against the wall of a secluded corner and by the time his mind registered what went on, a familiar red hand cannon was aimed at his gut.

            “How dare you! You traitor!”

            Ozzie gasped as he looked up at the owner of the voice. Drix was glaring at him with a vengeance, his eyes narrowing in contempt as he ignored the frantic yapping of Kiaran.

            “It’s OK, Kia. It’s OK,” Ozzie tried to calm the puppy down. “He’s a friend of mine.”

            “Not anymore if you don’t explain yourself!” Drix yelled as he shoved the cannon harder against Ozzie’s gut. “What are you doing here, or to be precise, what the heck are you doing here with…with that virus?!”

            “What am _I_ doing here? What are _you_ doing here?!” Ozzie retorted. “You were dead! I thought you fried your cherry little ass in Frank! You made me think you were gone, just like everyone else, and yet here you are, lookin’ like as if you never came to Frank! I should be asking you the same question!”

            “I asked you first, Jones, and I am not budging until you tell me everything!”

            “Well, I’m not saying anything until _you_ explain yourself first! And take that stupid ass cannon offa me, or else you ain’t hearing a single syllable outta me!”

            Drix glared long and hard at Ozzie for a full 5 seconds flat. It was the exact same glare he gave him whenever he was upset during their first few days being partners investigating Frank’s infection and into Thrax’s case. Ozzie glared back just as hard for another extra 5 seconds, challenging him to screw up before finally, Drix let out a sigh and moved his cannon away, deactivating it.

            “Still the same old Osmosis Jones I knew,” Drix commented grudgingly as he brushed off a non-existent smudge on his shoulder, a habit he always had whenever he’s frustrated about something. “I should have just cornered you at the function last night when I had the chance.”

            “You…You knew who I was all along?” Ozzie’s eyes widened in shock, feeling totally embarrassed right now that his ex-partner saw him in such a degrading getup.

            “You may look and dress like a girl, Jones, but your eyes are a dead giveaway. You don’t have a woman’s eyes, Jones. One closer look at you is all it takes for anyone to figure out you’re a cross-dresser, and I’d recognize those pair of naughty street-smart eyes anywhere.”

            Ozzie blushed despite himself, wondering whether that was how Mayor Margo figured out he was a guy.

            “This is not exactly the best place to talk,” Drix said as he gestured at the opposite direction of where they’re standing. “Let’s go someplace else where walls have no ears.”

            Seeing that there was still time to kill before he had to head back to the chalet to make dinner, Ozzie agreed. He followed Drix out of the secluded corner and out into the streets. They walked together quietly until they were at the overhead bridge of a busy highway. Leaning against the banister, Drix took out the bottles of coke he bought along the way and opened one for Ozzie. Sipping the drink, Drix eyed Ozzie’s midriff and quarter pants and snorted.

            “Nice outfit.”

            “Yeah, well, not exactly what I wanted to wear, but I don’t exactly have a choice in that matter,” Ozzie replied grudgingly.

            “Is that what the virus does to you everyday?”

            “You promised your story first. Now spill.”

            Drix sighed, sipped his coke a little before beginning his tale, “Well, when you took off and didn’t come back, we thought you were a goner, that probably you lost the fight with Thrax and you probably got killed, or coagulated by the atmosphere. Leah was really upset and was crying ‘He’s not coming back’ over and over in my arms when there was no news from you. She kept blaming herself for not believing in you and not realizing you true feelings sooner. It seems that Leah had finally realized her feelings for you as well.”

            Ozzie looked forlornly at the passing traffic. _So Leah actually liked me too…_ he thought quietly. _And what do I do? I go breaking her heart by making her think I’m dead, by leaving her to die…_

“The Chief found out through the radio-in that those who were at the mouth area were the only ones alive. The rest of Downtown Frank, even the mayor, had gone up in smoke and cinders. Not a single one of them there remotely survived. We held out at the mouth for a while, but we knew it wouldn’t be long before we would go down with Frank as well once we are put in the morgue under freezing temperatures and once Frank gets buried. So the Chief decided that I, who was collateral damage that shouldn’t have been, should leave Frank as soon as possible.”

            “Then why didn’t you bring Leah along with you?” Ozzie snapped. “Why didn’t you make her come with you if the Chief decided on you leaving? You could’ve dragged her or forced her or used that silly college boy martial arts of yours or your little bomb squad on your arm there and freeze her to take her with you! What are you the only one who left?!”

            “I tried to, Jones! You think I didn’t ask her to come with me?!” Drix snapped back. “I begged her to come with me and leave Frank, but her grief over your ‘death’ had turned her catatonic! After crying in my arms, she just suddenly lost her mind and said if you’re gone, then she will join you as well. She jumped off the uvula before I could grab her and fell straight down to the throat to goodness knows where! And before you ask, yes, I did wanted to jump after to help her, hoping my bubble-jet propulsion will help me with my landing, but the Chief and his men held me back, saying there was nothing I could do! If she hadn’t tried to kill herself, I would’ve taken her along with me in a heartbeat!”

            Ozzie was struck speechless. Leah, the love of his life and the most level-headed she-cell he had ever met, committing suicide because of him? He was unable to control the sobs that escaped his mouth as he fell to the floor, crying as he realized the full impact of his disappearance and failure to everyone in Frank. Drix laid a hand on Ozzie’s shoulder, trying to comfort him.

            “I killed her…Oh Frank, what have I done…? I killed her…!”

            “No, you didn’t. She killed herself. It’s not your fault. She took her life on her own accord.”

            “But…But it’s my fault…If I had gotten back to Frank sooner…”

            “No one could predict the future. You might have gotten back to Frank and still there is a chance that we’d be too late to save him anyway. Stop blaming yourself.”

            Ozzie’s sobs calmed down after a while as Drix’s words sunk in. He had his eyes hidden behind his hands, and he tried to breathe properly. Drix sat down beside him and continued his story.

            “After what happened to Leah, the Chief’s resolve to let me live strengthened and despite my protests, he and his men subdued me and waited for the coroner—her name is Deidre from her nametag—and the pathologist to come and examine Frank’s body to determine the cause of death, since his condition was a baffling mystery to all the medics to warrant an investigation, before they pushed me out of the mouth and onto Deidre’s hand when she took Frank’s chin and tilted his head sideways. I held onto one of her hair follicles for dear life and stayed there for a while, not going anywhere, not even into her body because I fear they would think I’m a virus and incarcerate me, and wondering what should I do next.

            “When I was at wits’ end trying to contemplate my predicament, I found out that Deidre was invited to a house-warming party at Jackson’s, who is her nephew three times removed on the mother’s side, because he just moved into a new home after being appointed the new Village Head. Seeing Jackson, he reminded me of Frank if he were still alive, though Jackson is probably about 10 years younger than Frank. I decided to stop wallowing in self-pity and start anew, try my best to do what I could not do for Frank. I waited until they were passing around the mash potatoes before I jumped into the food and waited for Jackson to scoop me along into his plate. He swallowed me in and I soon found myself in the stomach port. The securities there saw me and arrested me, charging me with illegal entry and I was sent to see the mayor.”

            “You? Arrested?” Ozzie said in amusement, but still had his hands over his eyes, not wanting the cold pill to see them red and sodden.

            “I know,” Drix rolled his eyes. “Last thing I would ever do is to break the law, but the situation wasn’t giving me much option. Wasn’t easy convincing the mayor that I wasn’t a virus, a germ or some harmful pathogen or bacteria, what with me not wanting to reveal that I came from an infected cadaver, but I finally gained citizenship of Jackson County thanks to Mr. Pheo from the Pheomelanin. On my way to be sent to the brain centre and to the mayor’s office, some oxygen truck came brushing by, ignoring the traffic lights and failed to notice a little girl who was trying to cross the road. I rushed out to save her regardless of me being detained by security and it turned out to be Mr. Pheo’s daughter. Mr. Pheo was so delighted and grateful that he bullied the mayor into allowing me to stay in Jackson County using his aristocrat status. He decided to hire me as his family’s personal bodyguard, and the rest is history.”

            Ozzie waited until he could feel his eyes no longer stinging with his salty tears before removing his hands and smiled up at Drix, saying, “Guess you’ve done yourself pretty well there, ain’t it, Drips?”

            “You still can’t pronounce my name correctly, can you?” Drix shook his head in defeat and smiled wryly. “Definitely the same old Osmosis Jones. So now I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain. What’s your story?”

            “You wouldn’t believe me, or like it, if I told you.”

            “Try me.”

            Ozzie sighed and picked up Kiaran in his arms and told him his tale, from the day he was kidnapped and partially infected by Thrax to the days he spent being Thrax’s slave and going around infecting and killing cities and the incidents in between, only stating briefly what sort of ‘activities’ that went on between him and Thrax, all the way till where he was right now. By the time he was done, Drix was giving him the incredulous look the cell had predicted he would.

            “I do not believe this!” Drix exclaimed.

            “I told you, you wouldn’t…” Ozzie replied nonchalantly but was cut by Drix’s intervention.

            “No, what I meant is…you’re not exactly telling me that you honestly believe Thrax is in love with you now, are you?”

            “I told you what I heard from him talking to his brother, is all.”

            “The virus kidnapped you, infected you, did all those unspeakable things to you, made you wear scandalous clothes like these, made you an accessory to murder and have you suffer the consequences. You are no different than…than a T-4 cell, for Jackson’s sake! Is that how someone who loves you should be treating you?!”

            “Hey, he’s a virus. Cut him some slack. What do you expect a virus like him to do? Give me the sappy serenade and flowers and chocolates and all that? That’s not him.”

            “And you like being treated that way, like a masochist?” Drix asked, raising a brow as he had his hands on his waist.

            “No! No, of course not!” Ozzie exclaimed immediately, giving Drix an accusing look. “What the heck are you implying here?”

            “Take it easy, Jones. I’m not implying anything brash here. Look, I’m not saying that I’m an anti-gay activist or something. I mean, heck, back in University of Chicago, I got a few pals of such preference as well, and I’ve seen some who were converted into that genre one way or another even though they were straight to begin with—though they never seemed to target me, not sure why—but the point is: Are you in love with him?”

            “W-W-Well, no…” Ozzie stuttered, trying to answer the question h had been trying to avoid even from himself. “I mean…not really…I mean, he can be nice sometimes and all but…I…well, you don’t know him like I do, OK? He didn’t really grow up right and all, so…”

            “You’re not answering the question, Jones,” Drix narrowed his eyes and leaned close to Ozzie. “Are you in love with him?”

            Ozzie’s eyes widened for a while at the blatant question before slumping, his eyes grudgingly looking away, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the idea of being probed about his feelings.

            “That’s…That’s none of your business, Drips.”

            “None of my business?!” Drix chided in disbelief. “Jones, you are fraternizing with the deadliest virus that made it into the medical books, the very virus that killed your city including the love of your life and you’re telling me it’s none of my business?! Listen to yourself, Jones! How could you say that??”

            “You’ve never been through what I’ve been through!” Ozzie shouted, poking Drix on the chest. “You never experienced rape! You never felt the pain of losing a child firsthand! You never felt the horrors of being someone’s sexual fantasy and being eyed all day by complete strangers who’s first thing in their minds is to get into your pants and shag you senseless! You have never had the experience of someone coming to your rescue, protecting you from all those threats, and telling you everything’s OK after a hellish day and you’ll never understand how it feels to be actually needed and not be treated like some second-class citizen of Frank! Someone you thought you’d never see the other side of is something I personally had it firsthand for all these while, while you had it easy getting into the city and straightaway getting a job from some rich folk who probably doesn’t even know how to tie his own shoelace without tripping, so don’t try telling me what I should or should not say!”

            It felt like squabbling in Mayor Phlegmming’s office all over again as Ozzie turned his back to Drix, just like the day in Frank where they claimed they couldn’t work with each other when no one believed his claims of Thrax’s existence and having Leah settling the argument. Drix sighed and turned Ozzie around to face him.

            “Look, all I’m saying is that maybe you’re just a little confused. You’re still feeling guilty and blaming yourself for Frank’s death. You needed to someone to reassure you it’s not. You lost Leah and you wanted someone desperately to hold onto, to feel like you’ve never lost her at all, and in your confusion, you turned to Thrax, who is probably the only other person you’ve ever known that was Frank.”

            “I am not confused…” Ozzie’s protest were stopped by Drix’s hand.

            “Sure, Thrax could have a different side to him, I’ll give him that much, since you’re still alive and kicking even under his rule of thumb, but be honest with me, Jones. If he truly loves you, would he allow you to go through all this?”

            “Well…” Ozzie started but couldn’t continue, not sure what to say.

            “I’m being objective here for you in believing that maybe there _is_ some truth in Thrax’s feelings towards you, as much of a cold-blooded killer as he may be. I mean, even viruses have hearts. But you got to be objective for me as well. If he really loves you, would he let you be subjected to all the consequences that he made his choices on? Would he allow you to be an accessory of murder, a slave, a sex tool to satisfy his lust and allowing the world to cause you so much pain because of his goals? This is not what a lover should do to their beloved.”

            “He’s…He’s just different, is all…”

            “Yes, he is different. Different in such a way that he caused you to be an object of sexual interest to every stranger you meet, and yet even he, a powerful deadly virus, cannot protect you from all of them. It was because of him you got raped and he killed an innocent child within you in cold blood. He made you flirt with that Mayor Margo you mentioned to get to the hypothalamus even though he knew you will end up being raped by the brain cell and he gave you traumatizing nightmares. He made you a killer, Jones. Maybe not directly, but he still made you who you are now. Trillions of cells in every city you destroyed, their blood is in your hands as well, Jones, and he is going to do it again here. Is that what someone who loves you would let you become?”

            Ozzie was rendered speechless again. Deep down inside, he knew that Drix was right in a way. He knew it, and it hurt. Ozzie massaged his temple and sighed.

            “What do you want me to do then? Kill him and make everyone feel better?”

            “As much as I’d like you to do so, I’d advise you against that. You are no match for Thrax in your current situation, and you’re gonna need all the help you can get,” Drix replied and opened his chest plate, taking out one of his capsules. He handed a greenish-white one to Ozzie, waiting for the cell to take it before continuing, “I have been creating my own ammunition for my bodyguard purposes thanks to free access from Mr. Pheo to high-tech labs, since I’m running out of the ones I came into Frank with and since I’m no longer really needed to relieve coughs and colds. This is a tranquilizer capsule. I need you to subdue Thrax and the recruits he collected with this.”

            “What am I supposed to do with this? Shoot it at their faces? I don’t have that thingy-a-majiggy your arm has.”

            Drix demonstrated by uncapping the top to reveal a sort of nozzle in it, saying, “When I use this in my cannon, the liquid inside the capsule will be sprayed out like an aerosol, but for your case, you just need to take off the nozzle and pour the content into the dinner you’re making tonight for Thrax and his company. It’s enough to knock out about a dozen people at one go.”

            “I…I don’t know…” Ozzie hesitated as Drix recapped the capsule and put it into his shopping bag.

            “I promise you, Jones, that Thrax will be dealt properly. I will try to ask Mr. Pheo to speak for Thrax, maybe even plead the mayor to give him a bit of jail time and have him confined to community services at best. Then you can stay here, not having to go anywhere and killing more cities, and it’ll be good for Thrax too to subdue him. You don’t want him to go around killing cities anymore now, do you?”

            Ozzie wanted to retaliate but he knew he was facing an undeniable truth. He balked reluctantly and said, “No, I don’t want him to kill anymore. Asking him to settle down like a good citizen is impossible, but yes, I want him to stop killing.”

            “Good. Here’s my cell phone number,” Drix said in relief as he wrote his number behind Ozzie’s grocery list. “When it’s done, give me a call and I’ll send in backup, OK?”

            Ozzie nodded and looked down quietly. Drix felt a little awkward seeing his ex-partner that used to have everything as the butt of the joke and being the most smart-mouth person he had ever met standing there silent as a mute and docile and submissive like a little lost child. He wondered how much have Thrax really changed him in the last few months they were together. He smiled as cheerfully as he could and ruffled Ozzie’s hair.

            “It’s really good to see you again, Jones.”

            Ozzie nodded again and left, leaving Drix alone on that overhead bridge as he made his way back to the chalet.

            This was not exactly the reunion he had hoped for.

\--:--

            Praises and laughter were heard in the dining room of the chalet as the germs and bacteria-s gorged themselves with the food. Thrax had Ozzie sit on his lap and spoon-fed him with the dinner he made, occasionally getting teasing whoops and whistles by the guests.

            Somehow, Thrax had managed to get the guest list of last night’s liaison function and tracked down all the germs and bacteria-s who were invited to talk matters with them. Apparently most of the germs and bacteria-s were victims of grudging acceptance to make peace with the city and swear into abiding the rules and not cause any health trouble to it, forced under the threat of elimination to cooperate. A minority of them shrank away from Thrax’s offer, in which Thrax killed them to eliminate witnesses and loose ends but the rest eagerly agreed to it after seeing what he can do and what he had to offer, wanting nothing more than to have the city dead and them running free and wild to do whatever they were meant to do.

            “Now this is some good homemade dinner,” one of the germs complimented. “It’s a big change from all the takeouts I’ve been having. Thanks, boss.”

            “Don’t thank me,” Thrax said. “Thank my little baby here. He made this just for you. So eat up, everybody, coz we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

            Everyone made a toast to Ozzie for his wonderful cooking and ate heartily until their plates were clean. Once Ozzie cleared the table, Thrax started laying out the plans for the hypothalamus grand heist. While he was directing teams to go certain areas, Ozzie came in with a tray carrying bowls of ice-cream for dessert. Distracted by the plans, the germs and bacteria-s took their bowl of ice-cream and ate it absentmindedly. Thrax took his ice-cream, but he put it aside to finish his words, only to be met with a shocking scene.

            One by one, the germs and bacteria-s slumped into a stupor, dropping their spoons and some falling face down onto the table as the tranquilizer Ozzie mixed into the ice-cream took effect. Ozzie just watched casually as the last one knocked out, and it was enough to tell Thrax that his little pet was behind all this.

            “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Jones? What’s in the food?” Thrax growled as he grabbed Ozzie by the collar. “Why are you doing this? What’s going on?!”

            Ozzie didn’t reply, his eyes staring apologetically at Thrax’s yellow orbs.

            “Are you betraying me now? Who told you to do this? Answer me, Jo—”

            Thrax’s snarls were cut short by Ozzie reaching up to take him fully on the lips, kissing him deeply. He slipped his tongue in to act as a funnel to let the leftover tranquilizer he kept in his mouth to flow into the virus’ mouth and make him swallow unaware. He had predicted Thrax would not touch the ice-cream, so he didn’t bother to mix it in with it. He knew an unexpected straightforward approach would be much more effective.

            “I’m sorry, Master,” Ozzie whispered as he hugged Thrax softly, half of him trying to keep him in place until the tranquilizer took effect and half of him begging for his Master’s forgiveness. Thrax struggled from his arms and grabbed his collar again.

            “Why? Why are you doing this? After all I’ve done for you, how could you betray me?”

            “It’s for your own good, Master. I promise everything will be fine soon. Just bear with it, OK?”

            “You…You little…bitch…”

            Thrax’s voice trailed off as he could feel the effects hitting him. He struggled to stand, to stay awake, to punish his pet who had been naughty again, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate in standing still. His mind was making his world go in circles and his eyes were threatening to close. He tried to flex out his killer claw but Ozzie had his hands gently holding his wrists, as if coaxing him into submission. He fought until he couldn’t fight anymore in this battle of consciousness and the last thing he saw was Ozzie’s sad eyes before he finally succumbed to darkness.

            Making sure everyone was out cold, including Thrax, Ozzie went to the chalet phone and made a private call.

            “Hello? Drips? It’s done.”


	15. Chapter 15

            News around the city spread like wildfire as the announcement of a big scale arrest was made in the Jackson Neuron News (JNN). Thrax and the germs and bacteria-s who swore to make peace with the city were apprehended and now are in lockdown in maximum security of the army barracks. Footage of the knocked out Thrax and his gang being dragged out of the chalet along with Ozzie in cuffs following behind Drix and a few men from the army barracks and special task force from the brain centre was all over TV, broadcasted live for everyone to see.

            Because of Thrax’s nature, the army barracks took extreme precautions in subduing him. He was put in a jail cell that was heat-resistant and his killer hand was encased in a portable machine that contained Drix’s ice solution that froze it and kept it under lock and key with a complicated series of security numerical codes as the only means of opening it. Thrax learnt from the warden, who came to observe him for a while, that trying to force it open will cause the machine to self-destruct and blowing the virus’ hand off, so the virus had no choice but to bear with the heavy weight on his left hand. Believe me, he was not exactly a happy camper when he first woke up to find himself behind bars. He was shouting and swearing, demanding to be let go so that he could punish his little pet, but his words fell on deaf ears by the army guards guarding the door of his jail cell.

            When they took him in for questioning, the first thing the virus demanded was the whereabouts of his pet Ozzie. Because of the machine strapped around his hand, he couldn’t do anything to scare them into submission, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to bully them into answering his demands. The army barracks, not quite phased by Thrax’s outburst, refused to tell him anything and carried on questioning him about his true intentions as to why he wanted to destroy the city. With his free hand, Thrax swiped everything that was on the table until they hit the wall, thanks to his super strength, and shouted “Where the fuck is my baby?!” before he was subdued by a few strong he-cell soldiers. His tone almost, for a split second, sounded frantic, desperate and afraid that the army barracks might do Ozzie harm when he shouted again for Ozzie’s whereabouts, but when the army barracks gave him no quarter, he gave them the silent treatment, no longer wanting to answer any questions unless he was told where Ozzie was. That earned him a really tough beating and a trip back to the jail cell bruised and battered, and a promise by the army barracks that they would continue this sometime soon.

            Outside, the autopsy of the park janitor’s cause of death was confirmed to be the Red Death, sending the whole village under quarantine lockdown and the one who had close contact with the body under maximum observation. Poor Jackson and his family, among others, had to be driven to the big city in white military ambulance vans and be kept in separate rooms in the main hospice of the quarantine section of the government pathology department, being monitored closely with all the necessary blood test and medication until the threat was eradicated. The medication injected into the body and its enzymes were quickly directed to the army barracks within Jackson County to deal with Thrax and his recruits, as well as helping to find and clear out all the others that Thrax had killed when they backed out from his offer.

            Ozzie, who was diagnosed by the brain centre’s professional medics as a quarter T4 cell because of his partial infection but deemed no harm to anyone in close contacts with him, was also interrogated some for his involvement in Thrax’s plot to spread the Red Death, but all in all, because he had cooperated fully in apprehending Thrax and that Drix, Mr. Pheo’s personal family bodyguard, had vouched for him, he was clear to go under probation from the city council. Mr. Pheo gladly took him in to his humble abode and assigned him as a second-in-command bodyguard under Drix because of his expertise in the immunity force. He was also allowed to keep Kiaran in hopes that once the puppy becomes a dog, it’ll be extra protection and a helping hand for the two bodyguards. He promised Ozzie that he would excise his power as an aristocrat to try and get city council to give Thrax as lighter punishment as possible, stating that “any friend of Drixenol is a friend of his”.

            “You feeling alright now, Jones?” Drix asked as Ozzie came out of the showers. It was a long day after the medical examinations and the interrogation, and as soon as Mr. Pheo got him settled in the family mansion, the first thing Ozzie did was take a long hot bath in the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom given to him.

            “Yeah, I guess. Just a little tired,” Ozzie replied as he took the clothes Drix handed to him. Putting them on, he saw it was a black T-shirt and a pair of cellular canvas slacks. It felt quite good to be able to wear regular clothes again, but somehow he felt something amiss.

            “You know, you should get rid of that collar.” Drix commented casually as he pointed at the hypothalamus collar still around his neck. He hadn’t taken it off since Thrax and the gang was arrested and never even gave it a thought. Drix frowned a little before continuing, “Don’t you feel odd having it around you? Those come from dead cities, you know. One of them could be from Frank. I hate the thought about carrying a piece of him around me.”

            “It’s OK. I’m fine. It feels nice, really. I just don’t think about whom the DNA belonged to and it’s a-OK.”

            “Seriously, Jones, you gotta come off it. You’re no longer enslaved by him. You don’t have to subjugate yourself into degrading things like this anymore, so you don’t need…”

            “NO!!!”

            Drix’s hand shot back at Ozzie’s outburst when he tried to reach over to touch the collar. Ozzie was holding it protectively, looking at the cold pill with wide horrified eyes, as if he was going to kill him or something. Ozzie realized what he had just done and softened his facial expression.

            “I…I’m sorry, Drips…I dunno what got into me…”

            “It’s…It’s OK, Jones,” Drix chuckled nervously, “really, it is.”

            “I just…please, just don’t touch the collar, OK?” Ozzie said as he looked away, feeling a little awkward to face Drix after that outburst. “It’s…It’s all I’ve got now…”

            “I understand. I won’t touch it anymore, I promise,” Drix replied. “I can assure you, you’ll feel right at home here. Mr. Pheo is a very nice man and he treats everyone like family. And if the stuff about Thrax goes through, he’ll be a-OK here as well with you.”

            “ _If_ it goes through.”

            “Have faith in Mr. Pheo, OK? He’ll be able to convince them and work things out, you’ll see.”

            Ozzie sighed and nodded. Drix looked at Ozzie sadly, unable to brush aside the thought that nagged him since the day they had the conversation at the overhead bridge.

            _He really has changed. What have the virus done to him? He’s just not like who he used to be…What happened to the smart-talking, street-smart immunity cop I used to know…?_

\--:--

            Ozzie searched around the storeroom for the tool box. He coughed and spluttered as the occasional dust bunnies fluttered about, but it didn’t really deter him much as he waded through the pile of items lying around here, there and everywhere all over the place. Besides, he had seen worse places than this, especially in crime scenes back when he was still an immunity cop in Frank.

            Mr. Pheo did as he had promised to appeal to the city council for a lighter sentence for Thrax, but so far, being an aristocrat didn’t always guarantee that he could get his request. The case was still pending because Thrax still would not say a word about his motives until he heard from Ozzie and yet the city council did not want to risk involving Ozzie into this predicament again, thus forbidding the army barracks to reveal Ozzie’s whereabouts and condition. And since Thrax wasn’t exactly being cooperative, they couldn’t get the necessary means to abide to Mr. Pheo’s appeal. In fact, in reality, they’d found it wise to not involve Ozzie at all and would prefer that this incident can be resolved quietly and Thrax be given a sentence that would permanently keep him away from the cell. Of course, Mr. Pheo decided against it during one of the council meetings on the grounds that Ozzie and Thrax were both physically and emotionally dependent to each other and neither would function properly without the other. He had learnt from Drix that the cold pill would occasionally hear Ozzie crying in his sleep asking for his Master (of course, he excluded that from the report during meetings to avoid a worse impression on Ozzie and get him sent back for interrogation) and he knew that to make the cell fully happy and willingly moving on with his life, he needed to be sure that the city council have given the lighter sentence for Thrax a thought. He had forbidden Drix, who had been following up on the case along with him, to reveal the progress of Thrax’s situation to Ozzie so as not to make him more upset than he should, so when Ozzie asked the first time, Drix would shake his head and feigned ignorance, telling him a white lie that he was not entitled to know about the case until it was solved.

            Other than that setback, the cell settled pretty well so far for the past week since he was accepted into the Pheomelanin family. True to Drix’s word, Mr. Pheo was nice but firm to his subjects and often treated everyone as the apple of his eye. Mr. Pheo’s children Drisella, Dexter, Damien and Dana eased up to Ozzie quite easily because of Ozzie’s cheerful, smart-mouth nature (although Drix was still unsure whether he was faking it for the sake of getting over himself) and they loved little puppy Kiaran to bits despite knowing that it was a HIV-breed dog. While Drix’s job as a bodyguard was to follow Mr. Pheo and/or his wife around whenever they are attending to their important scheduled destinations and events, Ozzie’s job was as a bodyguard for the children. He was responsible of sending them to and from school, accompanying them wherever they went (though he wasn’t exactly a big fan of following behind the daughters carrying their shopping bags) and look out for their wellbeing in general. There have been minor ups and downs, but all in all, the cell was managing just fine.

            “Where is that doggone toolbox…Ahah! Gotcha!” Ozzie exclaimed happily as he found what he was looking for. The boys were asking if they could build both an indoor and outdoor kennel for Kiaran so that it could have a nice, cozy spot to stay and sleep in. Though he was much comfortable having the puppy sleep by his side, he decided to humour them and give it a shot. Besides, he himself had always wondered how it was like to build a home for a pet anyway.

            As Ozzie took out the toolbox, he pulled out something else along with it and it fell with a thud onto the dusty floor. When he looked down to investigate, he saw that it was a bundle of heavy duty rope, the kind that was used on him before as bondage when he was still with Thrax. With a shaking hand, he picked up the rope and ran his fingers along the coarse texture. His mind went straight back to the first time Thrax tied him up and assaulted him with the dildo, and also when he had him dangling with his hands and feet up in the air and the sensual teasing and romping that came along with it. His heart ached at the memory, not because it was painful, but because Thrax was no longer around to do that to him. He was no longer surprised at having such thoughts. In fact, he seemed to have made peace with the fact that he was actually missing Thrax ever since he cried himself awake from a nightmare and, having no one to comfort him, cried himself back to sleep, whispering Thrax’s name despite himself.

            Clenching hard on the bundle of rope, he took it along with the toolbox, but did not immediately go outside to meet the boys who were waiting for him with the wood for the kennels. Instead, he made a beeline to Drix’s room and used his computer. He went online to search some websites and image galleries and made print-outs of what he had found before meeting up with the boys.

            “What took you so long, Osmosis?” Damien asked as he stopped playing wrestling with Kiaran.

            “Yeah, Osmosis,” Dexter sounded equally worried. “We thought you got buried alive in whatever was inside the storeroom.”

            “Chill, boys,” Ozzie chuckled as he brandished the toolbox and the print-outs. “I just thought maybe you might need some ideas on making the kennels. I just made a few print-outs of blue prints of sample kennels, see if there’s any design you liked to make for Kia. Here you go.”

            As the boys ogled over the print-outs and discussed with each other which one was the coolest design, Ozzie thought of the ‘other’ print out he made and partially looked forward for tomorrow morning.

\--:--

            “You want me to do what?”

            Drix looked awkwardly in disbelief at the piece of print-out he was given by Ozzie. Ozzie sat on the bed looking up at him sheepishly.

            “You heard me.”

            “But…But this…this is ridiculous!” Drix exclaimed, flinging the print-out at him. This was not something he had expected when he came into Ozzie’s room that morning after realizing he wasn’t ready in waiting to send the children to school.

            “I know it’s a little too much for you to ask,” Ozzie replied as he picked up the print-out that fell at his feet. “But please, just this once. For an old friend. I won’t ask it of you again, I swear.”

            “Jones, listen to yourself! You’re being ridiculous here! All this is friggin’ ludicrous! I thought you said you’d get over all this! You’re not Thrax’s slave anymore! You gotta stop behaving like you still are!”

            “C’mon, Drips! Don’t be such a sissy college boy at me right now! I _need_ this!”

            “No, Jones! Absolutely not!” Drix scowled, flinging his arms to emphasize his point. “I am not going to let you indulge in this sick madness of yours! You don’t cure a drug addict by giving him drugs, you know, and that’s exactly what you’re behaving right now!”

            “Is everything alright in there, Drixenol? Osmosis?” Mrs. Pheo’s voice rang from behind the door. “You’re taking quite a while, so I’ve just asked Tonto to send the kids to school.”

            “Everything’s alright, ma’am,” Drix replied. “Jones and I are just discussing some things. I’ll be right with you and Mr. Pheo.”

            “Alright, but hurry. We don’t want to be late for that event later. Jackson’s going to the beach soon and the mayor just called us about it. Oh, and Osmosis, don’t forget to pick the kids up from school, alright?”

            “He will, don’t worry,” Drix answered for Ozzie because at that moment, he was startled to see Ozzie’s eyes welling up in tears, staring at the print-out forlornly. One thing that’ll make the cold pill really hate himself was making someone cry, and right now, he really hated himself for bursting out at Ozzie before. He went to Ozzie and tried to comfort him but Ozzie swatted his hand away.

            “Get outta here,” Ozzie muttered. “Go attend that stupid beach event. I’ll ask someone else to do it for me.”

            “And let them find out about your damned past?” Drix gasped in horror. “You’ve been hurt enough, Jones. The last thing I want is you to be hurt again by this.”

            “I just…I just miss him, OK?” Ozzie brushed off his tears hastily. “Maybe you’re right, I’m friggin’ confused right now, or maybe I do have feelings for him…but now I’m just friggin’ missing him, alright? I just wanna feel him near just a little, is all. I’m not gonna ask you anymore after this, so please…”

            Drix was torn. Should he do this? Should he not do this? If he did, he was indulging Ozzie, letting him fall even deeper into his dark ghosts of his past and continue to be intoxicated by the sick sexual atrocities committed unto him. He would be corrupting him even further and not curing or rehabilitating him from Thrax’s traumatic tyranny like he should. But then again, if he didn’t do it, he might end up making the cell even more hurt and withdrawn. Worse, he might really go look for someone else to satisfy his craving and end up into a bigger mess if people knew about what he had been through and what he had become. Everyone in the household knew Ozzie only as an unwilling accomplice to Thrax; nothing more, nothing less. If they were to find out about this, it would ruin Ozzie and make him even worse than he already was. After all, there have been cases of depriving an addict of an addiction actually causing an opposite effect.

            “If you’re not gonna do it, then get the heck outta here and stop wasting mine and Mr. and Mrs. Pheo’s time!” Ozzie growled as he stood up abruptly and made his way out of the door with the rope and the print-out. Drix gripped his wrist just in time to stop him.

            “Alright, alright, I’ll do it, Jones. But just this once. You promise you won’t ask me to do this again?”

            “I…I promise…” Ozzie replied, both surprised and happy that Drix finally agreed to do it for him.

            “Right,” Drix sighed and scratched his gel-cap head. “Gimme the print-out. Let’s see how these knots go.”

            Smiling happily, Ozzie passed him both the rope and the print-out, and immediately undressed in front of Drix, making the cold pill look away awkwardly for a moment at the blatant display of nudity and Ozzie’s lack of modesty. Needless to say, Drix wasn’t exactly enjoying it as he followed the knots displayed on the figure in the print-out and tied it as tight as Ozzie ordered him to. By the time he was done, Ozzie looked just exactly like the Japanese bondage picture in the print-out, minus the part where his hands were tied in the back. Ozzie tried walking around with it until he got used to the feeling of having the coarse rope rubbing against his membrane before putting his clothes back on, adjusting them so that the ropes would not be visible to the naked eye.

            “Are you sure you’re alright?” Drix asked, worried and concerned about what the ropes might do to Ozzie’s membrane.

            “Relax,” Ozzie replied, sounding almost like his old self now. “I’m perfectly fine. Right, I gotta go now. Gotta wait outside the school until the kids come out. Later, Drips.”

            Drix sighed and shook his head in defeat, wondering if he had done the right thing.

\--:--

            It was a long day for Ozzie as he fell onto the bed to stretch his tired muscles. Frankly, this had been the first time in a while since he was that busy.

            First he waited outside the school all day, being in alert mode just in case anything happened at school and he could come to the kids’ rescue, until school’s over and the kids came out without incident. They asked him worriedly about him not sending them to school and Ozzie had to tell them a white lie saying that he and Drix were a little busy trying to get ready to help their parents on the beach event. Drisella had ballet class, Dana had violin class, Dexter had karate class and Damien had to come back to school to attend his Literature Club, so not only he was their chauffer for every destination they had to go, but he was also more or less waiting hand and foot for them: preparing Damien’s books and club materials, finding Drisella’s other ballet shoe, checking to see if Dana brought both the violin and her music books, helping Dexter with his karate uniform and the like.

            After picking them up at certain times at the end of their extra classes, the kids pestered Ozzie to take them to the mall so that the girls could do a bit of shopping and the boys can go play at the arcade. Ozzie agreed but made them promise not to be later than dinnertime, in which they disobeyed anyway and Ozzie had to drag them by the collar and chucked into the car and be driven home. The kids held no grudge on that because they knew Ozzie would never really hurt them (and also they knew they were at fault to begin with) and Drisella actually asked Ozzie to stop at the smoothies shop to buy a nice, cold smoothies as their way of apologizing for making him worry. Ozzie accepted it graciously and reached home safely in time for dinner before holing in his room for a little me-time.

            Throughout his day, he had never stopped thinking and feeling the way the tight bonds of the ropes on his body were on his membrane. Every time he moved, the coarseness of the ropes rubbed against him, and the part where the knots were pressed hard against his crotch and his pucker, rubbing extra hard and bringing his cock to life. It took Ozzie his entire willpower not to let out a moan and act casual as if nothing was wrong while the ropes rubbed relentlessly at every part of his body as he went about his business for the day, arousing each and every sensitive area like crazy. Making sure that the door was locked, he took off his clothes and lay naked on the bed, undoing the knots near his crotch to release his throbbing cock and started pumping himself.

            “Mmh…Yes…Master, please…Torment me more…”

            Ozzie moaned as he stroke himself, occasionally teasing the tip of his cock with his index finger, spreading the pre-cum around it.

            “Yes, Master, touch me there…”

            As he stroke himself harder, he could almost imagine Thrax’s touches and his searing yellow eyes watching every crevice of his body, his claws running gently and softly on his membrane, teasing him everywhere.

            “Master…Oh, Master…”

            He could imagine Thrax’s lips on him, his tongue along his jaw-line and his cheeks, his dreadlocks as they tickled his face whenever he lowered his head down to kiss him.

            “Master, not yet…Gimme more…”

            He could almost feel Thrax’s toned muscles ripple smoothly against his membrane, the strong hands taking his clenched hands and pinning them down onto the bed, subduing him with his weight.

            “I’m…I’m gonna cum, Master…”

            He could feel the huge man meat of his Master Thrax sliding into him, giving him the undeniably ecstatic pleasure he had craved for so long. He could almost taste it.

            “Yes…Yes…! Master, I’m cumming…! I’m cumming…!”

            All of Thrax’s imaginary presence disappeared within a single split second as he let himself go all over his hand, thighs and stomach. Panting as he twitched a little from the tremors, he finally had come to the obvious conclusion that he had been avoiding ever since Klepta first popped the question to him.

            He loved Thrax. In a sick, twisted and distorted sense, he was truly, madly and deeply in love with Thrax.

            And it hurt, especially when he was not there to know it.

            As Ozzie tried to hold back the tears that threatened to flow out of his eyes, he heard a soft knock on the door.

            “Jones?”

            “Oh, Drips, it’s you,” Ozzie composed himself and quickly grabbed a towel to cover himself before opening the door.

            “You OK, Jones?” Drix asked worriedly, his eyes caught sight of the discarded clothes on the floor and the rope still around Ozzie, well, the top part, that is.

            “Yeah, fine and dandy. I was going to skip dinner and sleep, actually. Long day and I’m dead tired.”

            “I see. Well, I’ve come to tell you about Thrax. Mr. Pheo forbidden me not to tell you because he wanted the city council to reconsider but I just feel it’s the right thing to do by you.”

            Ozzie quickly pulled Drix into his room and closed the door behind him, locking it as he looked at the cold pill in fearful anticipation.

            “Spill it, Drips.”

            “Well, to be honest with you, I’ve known the progress of Thrax’s case all along, but Mr. Pheo told me not to tell you coz he doesn’t want you to get involved with the city council should they decide something unfavourable.”

            “I gathered that much,” Ozzie replied, and when Drix widened his eyes in shock, he waved it away, “I’m not born yesterday, Drips. I know when someone’s lying or when someone’s pretending they don’t know anything. I was a cop, remember? But I decided to let it slide since you asked me to put my trust on Mr. Pheo. So what’s the story now?”

            “Um…” Drix hesitated. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all. You’re tired and…”

            “Drips,” Ozzie gave him a warning tone. “Now.”

            Drix swallowed nervously before blurting out whatever he came to say.

            “They’re gonna give him the death penalty.”


	16. Chapter 16

            “Calm down, Jones! You gotta calm down!”

            “Let go of me! Let go of me, Drips!!”

            A big commotion was heard as people saw Ozzie storming out of his room early in the morning and Drix chasing after him and grabbing him, making him scream bloody murder and struggle like a convict trying to escape from prison. Mr. Pheo quickly came to find out what was wrong.

            “What is going on here?” Mr. Pheo asked, shocked to see Ozzie wriggling and squirming like a worm in Drix’ clutches. “It’s a Sunday morning, boys. Take your hustle some place else, or maybe do it another time.”

            “You liar!” Ozzie spat. “You fucking liar! You told me you’d help Thrax! And yet now he’s gonna die! You big fat fucking liar!!”

            Mr. Pheo looked disapprovingly at Drix, figuring out that Drix had let the cat out of the bag. Drix looked away guiltily.

            “I’m sorry, Mr. Pheo. I just—calm down, Jones—I just don’t think Jones deserve to be kept in the dark anymore. He’s bound to find out sooner or later anyway, since it’s going to be a public execution…”

            “Public execution?!” Ozzie exclaimed. “When the hell were you going to tell me about this?! Were you going to keep this from me until Thrax is long gone and dead?! I trusted you, Mr. Pheo! You said you were going to help Thrax!! I trusted you!!”

            Mr. Pheo, seeing that Ozzie’s outburst was attracting too much unwanted attention, gestured Drix to escort Ozzie to his study. Ozziy obliged but not without a fight as the cold pill had to literally shove the cell into the room while Mr. Pheo locked the door behind them. Drix still had to keep hold of him in case he wanted to lunge at the melanin cell and Mr. Pheo could tell Ozzie was literally seething with fury.

            “Yes, I understand you’re upset about this,” Mr. Pheo replied apologetically as he tried to calm Ozzie down. “I know I have promised to return Thrax to you and request the city council to deal with him properly and professionally, but you must understand, my influence and power can only do so much. I am an aristocrat, not a saint. I’ve tried, I’ve really tried, but I am still not above the law.”

            “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me in on what went on in that friggin’ meeting room of yours? Drips said it was for my own good, that I shouldn’t know coz I might jeopardize the case, but you were going to hide this from me as well! This is my Master’s life we’re talking about! How could you hide something as important as this from me?! I had to find out from Drips, and if I hadn’t passed out from shock last night, I would’ve knocked your socks off till next week!”

            “I didn’t want Drixenol to tell you because I had wanted to try and plead for them to reconsider again. They deemed Thrax to be too dangerous to keep alive and to be trusted with being a good citizen of Jackson even if he’s let out under probation and under your care, and despite my protest saying that Thrax had technically not harmed the city yet and only had committed murder on the germs and bacteria-s—personally I think it wouldn’t have impacted the city much anyway since it’ll be good riddance to them rather than having to worry of them becoming potential troublemakers—and can be considered the lesser of two evils, they’ve come to a consensus without my knowledge last night about the verdict. They didn’t even bother to give a sort of trial for Thrax and had the galls to start off the sentencing meeting without my showing up. The votes were unanimous and there’s nothing I can do to persuade them. In fact, as we speak, the rest of his gang are going through the elimination phase where they would be gunned down by army barrack executioners before being expelled out of Jackson through the bowels. They wanted to make Thrax’s execution public so that it will deter the rest of the germs and bacteria-s who had made peace with the city from even thinking of doing something brash in Jackson County.

            “I didn’t want you to know the progress of the case either because I didn’t want you to get upset and worried about it. Your wellbeing is our utmost concern, and Jack knows what it’ll do to your mental state if you were to know about all this when you’re supposed to be rehabilitating under our care. I’m really sorry, Osmosis, but I’m really doing this for the best of your interest.”

            “Well, it’s not doing me any better now, innit, Mr. Pheo?!” Ozzie said his name cynically, still trying to struggle out of Drix’s hold. “I’m more upset than you give me credit for, and it’s all because of you! Now my Master is gonna die and I’m not there for him! I’ve betrayed him and now I’m gonna suffer the guilt for it because I wasn’t let in on the details!”

            “Don’t you understand your situation, Jones?” Drix scolded frusttratedly. “You’re not only branded as an accomplice to Thrax to destroy Jackson County, but in private among us you are known as Thrax’s sex slave! You had relations with him, Jones! Sexual relations with him! They are going to put you in the medical department of the army barracks and cleanse you through and through, making sure that you are not carrying either the infection or his spawn, and that is if you are able to survive the detox process first. You’re gonna get yourself killed in there, Jones! They will spare no expense in making you into a clean slate. Do you _want_ to die like that?”

            “I’d rather die than live with the guilt of surviving and letting my Master die,” Ozzie replied bitterly. “I’ve lived with this feeling once when I failed to save Frank and I’m not about to allow it happen to me again with Thrax! In fact, why don’t you kill me now? Thrax is gonna die anyway, so why don’t you just put me out of my misery now…”

            A loud slap was heard throughout the study and Ozzie felt the initial sting as it spread slowly through his throbbing cheek. Ozzie stared blankly at the perpetrator and found it was no other than his employer Mr. Pheo, glaring at him like a father would to a child who had a potty mouth.

            “M…Mr. Pheo…” Drix almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Even he was shocked to see Mr. Pheo’s reaction to Ozzie’s suicidal outburst. He was known never to lay a finger on anyone, not even on his own children as he didn’t believe in ‘sparing the rod, spoiling the child’ method of disciplining them, and there he was now, for the first time ever, slapping a grown man.

            “Wha…What the Frank…was that about…?” Ozzie literally breathed his words out, his dazed eyes seeming to threaten to pop out of the sockets.

            “I’m sorry, Osmosis,” Mr. Pheo apologized as he soothed the cheek he just slapped with the tip of his fingers, his face seemingly filled with self-hatred at what he just did. “I shouldn’t have done that, but you gave me no choice. One thing I really despise is people who take their Jack-given lives for granted and always asking for death so easily.”

            “Who do you think you are?” Ozzie snarled in gritted teeth, trying to hold back the painful tears that threatened to fall out of his black orbs. “Who are you to decide my life and death?”

            “And who are _you_ to decide so?” Mr. Pheo retorted as he pulled Ozzie out of Drix’s grasp and into his. “Nothing is going to change with you killing yourself. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Osmosis. Either of your deaths, Thrax or yours, is not going to change the fact that what happened has happened. Think about the people you’d upset when you die. Think of the damage you’d do to others by your selfishness.”

            “Been there, done that, Mr. Pheo. Last time someone thought I died, she killed herself. No one else will care now if I die for real.”

            “What about us? What about the children? What about your best friend Drixenol? We care. We cared about you to let you into our family circle and we cared about you enough to help you go through your days without your lover. _I_ cared enough about you to help you get your lover back. Hell, if I weren’t a married man and if you hadn’t had Thrax, I’d dare say I care about you enough to take you as my lover, seriously,” he chuckled when both Ozzie and Drix looked at him incredulously, “You have no idea what sort of charm you have on people, Osmosis. Could be that you have had it all along, but it took an infection to bring out in full scale. You more or less have the power to make anyone fall for you and care for you because you have the looks of a person that needed to be loved.”

            Ozzie was struck speechless. He never thought of himself as that way. Everyone saw him a rebel, a nuisance, a smart-mouth show off and an attention-seeker. Maybe his family could be considered the ones that genuinely loved and cared for him, but to think of others to see him as someone to be loved, protected and cared for was something even he couldn’t imagine.

            “But I’m getting ahead of myself,” Mr. Pheo chuckled again as he loosen his grip on Ozzie and reach up to pet his head. “Point is, it’s not worth it to lose your life over this. I know it’s painful for you to accept this, and I’m very, very, _very_ sorry for disappointing you, but you have to know this: If you really, truly love Thrax, you must live on for him. Survive for him and live out his part of life that he couldn’t. Live for him, Ozzie. That’s the best you can do for Thrax. Live.”

            Ozzie finally melted his pride and killed his fiery anger, allowing the tears that he had held back ever since he heard of Thrax’s sentencing pour out and stain his cheeks. Mr. Pheo smiled kindly as his words finally got through to him and allowed Ozzie to bury his face against his chest and cry his heart out. Drix petted Ozzie on the back to ease his sobs and Mr. Pheo rubbed Ozzie’s shoulder to comfort him, letting him let everything go and, in a way, quietly accept the reality that there is nothing he could do about it and his only option was to take his boss’s advice. Ozzie didn’t care now that he was being a crybaby. There was someone to comfort him and let him know that everything was alright and that it was OK to accept this harsh reality, and he let his tears cleanse himself from all the guilt and pain he had felt and dissolve his anger and self-hatred over his incompetence to save his Master. After much loud crying, Ozzie finally slowed down to a silent sob, occasionally sniffling.

            “Feeling a bit better now?” Mr. Pheo asked.

            Ozzie nodded and remove his head away from his boss’s chest. He saw the wet patch there and felt a little awkward about that.

            “S…Sorry, Mr. Pheo. I didn’t mean…”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Mr. Pheo replied, kissing Ozzie’s forehead in a fatherly fashion. “It’s not exactly the world’s most expensive suit or something. The important thing is that you’re OK. And no more thinking about dying, alright?”

            Ozzie nodded and grinned as he wiped the last tears that clung to his lower eyelids.

            “Here,” Drix said as he poured a glass of water for Ozzie to drink. “Crying makes you dehydrated. This will make you feel much better.”

            Ozzie chuckled and took the water to drink. If Drix knew how much he had cried for the past few days, or during the time when he was with Thrax, he’d be surprised his partner hadn’t shriveled up like a prune right now. Mr. Pheo finally unlocked the door and gestured them to follow.

            “Let’s have some breakfast, shall we?”

\--:--

            Ozzie walked down the echoing corridor of the maximum security prison of the army barracks. There were a few shouts here and there from inmates around the area but they were soon subdued by the army guard that guarded their cell, banging the door with their baton to warn them to keep their mouths shut. Ozzie instinctively moved closer towards Drix. The cold pill smiled and squeezed Ozzie’s shoulder reassuringly.

            “Don’t worry. This is a maximum security prison made out of the toughest, highest-quality material the city can provide, so there is no chance of those convicts getting out of that, and you’re within the boundaries of the toughest soldiers in Jackson County. You’re perfectly safe.”

            Ozzie nodded. As they continued to walk down the corridor, Ozzie remembered the day after his outburst with Drix and Mr. Pheo. The melanin cell had approached him with a sort of relieved face and said that he managed to persuade the city council to at least have a final rendezvous with Thrax before his execution date. The city council was definitely not happy at first, but Mr. Pheo really laid it on them this time, forcing them to search for their conscience as to what they would do if they faced the same situation as Ozzie had to face. Finally they agreed to let Ozzie visit Thrax for just one day, and to assure them that he would take full responsibility on this matter, he sent his trusted bodyguard to escort Ozzie, which was of course our good ol’ cold pill Drixenol.

            The soldier who escorted the duo to Thrax’s cell was taking them deep into the bowels of the army barracks prison where the most dangerous criminals were kept under lock and key. The place looked a little desecrated, but they looked much tougher and stronger than the ones in the regular prison area. Ozzie see a couple of dangerous-looking viruses locked up there and couldn’t really tell which virus family they’re from because the only thing he could see was their eyes that looked through the barred slot of their cell door, but other than that, the place seemed to look rather empty.

            They soon stopped in front of a jail cell that seemed relatively new. The soldier peeked in to check if Thrax were in sight and knocked harshly at the door with his baton.

            “Yo, virus. You got a visitor.”

            So saying, he unlocked the door using a pass card and a long series of numbers on the code machine to unlock the door. As the duo entered, they saw Thrax lying on the bed facing the wall, his back facing them and his left hand encased in the machine, leaving a sort of dead weight on his arm. He was wearing nothing but that pair of black pants Ozzie last saw him in, revealing the upper half of his body which was covered with cuts and bruises from all the beatings he earned from the soldiers as they tried to torture and bully him into confessing his motives of trying to destroy Jackson County. His eyes were a little sunken in because part of his torture was being deprived of sleep as he was interrogated relentlessly without rest, and he looked quite thin from the diet of bread and water he got for every meal during his imprisonment. Ozzie couldn’t suppress his gasp as he saw the drastic change in his Master.

            “Oi, virus. Ya hear me? You got a visitor,” the soldier prodded Thrax’s back with his baton but was softly pushed aside by Drix.

            “We’ll take it from here. You just wait outside. We’ll call you when you’re done.”

            “You’re not gonna let me just allow you to waltz in and do whatever you want, do you?” the soldier asked in an annoyed tone. “I’m not leaving you outta my sight, not when this T4 cell is with this virus…”

            “Mr. Pheo said by the authorization of the city council, once we’re in here with the convict, I will take over and be in charge of what goes on around here,” Drix said with his hands on his hips in an authoritative manner. “Would you like it if Mr. Pheo finds out you are questioning his and the city council’s decision?”

            The soldier cell and the cold pill exchanged challenging glares for a while before the former finally stomped off and out of the jail cell, grumbling to himself. Once the door was sealed closed, Drix jerked his head, gesturing Ozzie to approach the virus. Ozzie nodded and knelt beside the bed, tentatively tapping Thrax’s shoulder from behind.

            “Umm…Master…? It’s me, Ozzie.”

            Almost immediately, Thrax turned around to face him. If looks could kill, Ozzie would probably be dying a thousand deaths now. As Thrax got up and off the bed, Drix pulled Ozzie close, his hand cannon aimed at him if he tried anything brash.

            “We meet again, Thrax,” Drix said.

            “Yes, and I don’t even want to know how you got here,” Thrax growled. “I’m just gonna deal with my baby here, and it’s about time you showed up.”

            “It’s alright,” Ozzie broke from Ozzie’s hold and set him aside, assuring him that he was alright. He came close to Thrax and whispered, “I’m sorry, Master.”

            “Sorry isn’t good enough, Jones,” Thrax snarled as he grabbed hold of Ozzie’s collar, shaking him. Drix wanted to stop him but Ozzie held up a hand to stop him and make him stay where he was. Thrax glared at the cold pill for a while before turning to the cell, “Did that cold pill tell you to do what you did to me?”

            “Yes, he did.”

            “Why did you listen to him? Why did you betray me? I thought you promised me that you will never listen to any orders or commands but mine. Why did you listen to his words instead and betray me?”

            “Because…Because I thought I was doing the right thing,” Ozzie looked away sadly.

            “By drugging me? By drugging all those men that I worked so hard for to collect?” Thrax bellowed as he pushed Ozzie until he hit against the cold pill. “We were almost there! We were so close! We would’ve succeeded if it weren’t for you! After all I’ve done for you, after all you’ve been through with me, how could you do this to me? How could you betray me?”

            “I just…I just don’t want you to kill anymore, Master,” Ozzie whined as he tried to gain a foothold. “That’s all I want: to settle down and not having to be on the run all the time.”

            “You know I cannot do that! It’s my nature! It’s in my blood! A virus is not a virus if I don’t do what I’m meant to do…”

            “I don’t give a fuck what you are meant to do!” Ozzie suddenly shouted, letting out the outburst he had been dying to do so ever since he was with Thrax. “It’s your own body! You got a brain! You can choose not to kill! Do you know that every time you go on an all-out heist like this the first thing I could only think of was how to get out of it alive. I always worry that things might screw up, that you might die, and what does that leave me? What am I to do without you? I don’t give a damn about what you made me do or how you use me to achieve your goals, but what would happen to me if you die and leave me all alone?! Have you ever thought about that?!”

            For the first time ever, Thrax, who always had the last say, was speechless. He couldn’t believe his ears. Ozzie was actually worried and concerned about his safety and his life? He had always thought that Ozzie hated being with him that he was only following orders because he bullied him into submission, that he was going along with his charades because he fear for his own life. He had assumed that Ozzie would never willingly fall in love with him, thus his dominance over him to make him feel that the cell was, one way or another, belonged to him and pretend that the cell loved him back. Ozzie could see all that questions lingering in his mind by his facial expression and came close to him.

            “Yes, I admit in the beginning I hated being with you. I hated you for killing Frank and everyone in him and being with you was like a living hell. But during the days I’ve been with you, I learnt so much about you and I saw a side of you that I would never thought I’d see. You punished me, you tortured me and you fucked me till I could forget my name, but at the same time you showed me in your own way that you actually cared about me. I don’t blame you for whatever that you have caused me or whatever that had happened to me, including being raped and getting knocked up, because in the end, you would rescue me and tell me that everything was alright and that the worst was over. You were always there for me, Master, and…and I…I love you for that.”

            Thrax’s heart felt like it just swelled up three times its size before it exploded into tiny little pieces at Ozzie’s words. _I love you._ The magic words that he thought Ozzie would never ever say as long as he lived slipped out of those lips that he would kill to own. He looked down almost dejectedly, not wanting the cell and the cold pill duo in front of him to see his face, or more importantly his eyes, as they seemed to melt with emotions he had long forgotten ever since his mother hardened his heart.

            “I love you, Master,” Ozzie said softly as he undid the belt that held his canvas slacks on. “And I have betrayed you. I deserve to be punished. Do me as you will.”

            Thrax saw the belt held out to him willingly and tensed for a while before snatching it out of his hand. He could tell from Drix’s little body languages that he wasn’t very comfortable with this idea, like silently fidgeting around a little and putting his the back of his finger against his lower lip, which was what he was doing right now, but the fact that he had not voiced out his protests showed that he more or less trusted what Ozzie was doing. Ozzie, on the other hand, just stood there submissively, resigned to his fate.

            Without warning, instead of the belt, Thrax’s encased hand flew across Ozzie, hitting him on his side and sent him skidding across the floor. Drix gasped and frowned as he activated his hand cannon.

            “Alright, that’s just uncalled for…” Drix wanted to apprehend Thrax but was stopped by Ozzie.

            “No! You stay outta this, Drips!” Ozzie struggled to get up as he held his hand up, again making him stay where he was.

            “But this is too much. I won’t stand for this…”

            “Then get the hell out!” Ozzie barked, glaring at him while holding his bruising side. “This is my reunion with Thrax and I won’t have you ruin it for me! You can’t handle this, then go outside and watch the door! I know what I’m doing here!”

            “But…But, Ozzie…”

            “I said GET THE FUCK OUT!!”

            Drix hesitated and wanted to retaliate, to put his foot down and handle this, but seeing the insistence—and a little desperation—in Ozzie’s narrowed eyes, he lost the heart to do so, remembering fully his promise last night after Mr. Pheo announced the good news of a reunion that he would trust Ozzie and let him take as much time as he liked with Thrax, not interfering with whatever goes on between them during the reunion. Quietly, he walked out of the jail cell and waited outside the door, using his cannon to squirt a gel-like substance over the barred slot of the door to block out the sounds despite the soldier guard’s protests.

            Thrax didn’t waste time in putting the belt to use. Before Ozzie could brace himself, he landed the belt onto the cell hard. Blow after blow came raining down onto poor Ozzie who curled up in a fetal position on the floor, not protesting or screaming for mercy, only letting out an occasional whimper or sob. The virus vented out everything he felt within onto Ozzie: his anger over Ozzie’s betrayal; his self-hatred over what he was doing right now to Ozzie even after what the cell had just confessed and over what he had done to his poor little pet in the past; his dismay over the fact that he had to find out right now how his pet truly felt for him; his self-loathing over himself not having the courage to honestly tell his feelings to Ozzie because of his years of built-in pride; and his disappointment and sadness over the reality that he will never see his baby again after this.

            It felt like forever before Ozzie finally felt the blows stopped coming. When he looked up from his fetal position, he saw Thrax breathing heavily as he threw away the belt not because he was tired of beating him up, but because he was trying to suppress something that was threatening to overflow from the very fiber of his being and make him very uncharacteristic in front of his pet. Tentatively, Ozzie got up from the floor and walked painfully close to the virus. When he reached his hands up to try and cup his Master’s cheeks, he was gripped tight by the wrist with one clawed hand and pulled close to the virus’ face before he felt Thrax’s strong lips on his, kissing him with a fiery passion. He felt something wet against his own cheeks, not sure whether it was his Master’s tears—he’d be extremely surprised to see the manly Thrax who was the cause of tears to actually cry himself—or his own, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to be in Thrax’s arms, feeling his vigor and strength of his heart all over him.

            “I love you, Master…” Ozzie whispered between kisses. “I love you…I love you so much…”

            Thrax didn’t reply, but reciprocated his feelings by showering butterfly kisses around his face and neck. It was very rare for Thrax to behave so tenderly, but as long as his Master was with him, Ozzie couldn’t care less if Thrax was slobbering all over him. Thrax tried to remove the cell’s clothes but with a dead weight on his left hand, undressing him with one hand was making it very difficult. Ozzie helped by removing them for him, baring his nude form for the virus to see. Thrax continued to kiss the rest of his exposed membrane, twirling circles around the inverted concaved area on his chest with his tongue, making the cell shiver and whine in ecstasy. It felt almost like his imagination while he was masturbating back then had come to life.

            “Lie down on the bed, baby,” Thrax said huskily, calling Ozzie’s pet name the latter had missed so much while his eyes were not really meeting his once his lips stopped at his midsection.

            Seeing the faint streaks along the virus’ cheeks, Ozzie understood why the lack of eye contact. He nodded and did as he was told. As soon as he was on the bed, he felt Thrax’s free hand on the left side of his hip and his dreadlocks tickled his midsection, and he trembled in anticipation as to what was about to happening next.

            Slowly but surely, he felt the warm, wet heat of his Master’s mouth around his cock. Ozzie gasped in surprise. Throughout their relationship, Ozzie had always been the one to who did the work. Thrax had never once had his mouth anywhere near his nether region, well, not directly, anyway, and now there he was, sucking and bobbing his head up and down, expertly using his lips to clench and unclench his member and lashing random tantalizing patterns around it and down the underside. Afraid that he would make a fool of himself being heard, Ozzie quickly covered his mouth, pressing both his hands against it to suppress his moans.

            “What did I say about holding back?” Thrax’s voice rang in his ears as he momentarily let his oral hold off Ozzie’s cock.

            “But…But people might hear us, Master…” Ozzie whimpered, his voice muffled behind his hand.

            “Let them hear us. Let the whole world hear our passion tonight. Let me hear your voice as you scream for me, baby.”

            Ozzie slowly release his hold on his mouth and let himself go, letting out moan after moan of euphoria as his Master continued to blow him, his clawed hand massaging his sac. He clawed at the hard, cold bed he was on, desperate to grab onto something but seeing that the bed had no mattress or bed sheets, he resolved to clutch onto the edge of the bed, surrendering himself to his skilled mouth. In the back of his mind, he had wondered how had Thrax mastered all these, and felt a slight pang of jealousy at the thought of his Master pleasuring other people before him before he chucked that thought out of his mind, easing in to the fact that whoever had it with Thrax back then, Trisha included, was never as good as what he was getting now. His hips reflexively bucked at the wet heat and instinctively wanted to thrust forward but Thrax carried his dead weight left hand and held him down, the cold metal of the encasing machine making Ozzie let out a surprise yelp for a split second there before returning to the ecstatic assault on his throbbing member.

            After succeeding in making Ozzie into a squirming, moaning, writhing fool, Thrax proceeded to move downward and suck his sac. Rolling the balls along his tongue, he released his heavy hold on the cell’s belly and took one of his ankles, wrapping the leg around his head, nudging his other leg to do so with his dead weight hand. Ozzie complied and that was when Thrax stopped licking and sucking the sac and leaned down to trace circles around his puckered entrance. Ozzie cried out in rapture between gasps as Thrax kissed and licked his ass before slipping his tongue, thrusting into his entrance and roaming around his inner muscle. Delving deep into him, Thrax could feel Ozzie’s muscles contracting around him in pleasure while his lips worked its magic to suckle the pucker.

            Ozzie was blown away by the feeling of Thrax’s mouth devouring him like that. Words could barely even describe what he was feeling right now as he moaned and groaned with pleasure at his Master’s ministrations. The odd reaching sensation was infuriatingly close, clawing at his membrane mercilessly and screamed at him for release, but without being able to touch himself (and feeling the warning of the cold steel of Thrax’s encased hand whenever he tried), the cell was going insane with the build throbbing painfully in his cock.

            “Master…Master, please…Fuck me…! Fuck me and let me cum, I beg you…!”

            “Such a demanding slave,” Thrax chuckled as he stopped tongue-fucking his pet. He maneuvered the cell until he was on all fours and coated his cock with whatever remaining saliva that was around Ozzie’s hole after unzipping his fly. Holding Ozzie’s waist from behind with his encased hand, he prodded Ozzie’s entrance teasingly with the tip of his rock-hard cock and asked, “How badly do you want me, baby?”

            “V…Very badly, Master…” Ozzie breathed, trying his best not to just scream at him to impale him and shag him senseless.

            “How badly?”

            “Un…Until I…I forget who I am…”

            “I love you, baby.”

            With that tiny whisper near his ear, catching Ozzie unaware, Thrax slid in with one smooth thrust, the moist saliva within his entrance paving the way. Ozzie widened his eyes and let out a strangled gasp at the initial burn, but soon started moaning and groaning again in elation as the virus started thrusting in a steady rhythm, the ridges of his cock rubbing sensually against Ozzie’s inner muscles. Ozzie clawed at the pillow, which was probably the only thing that made a bed, and gripped hard at the pillow case, his sweet spot immediately found and assaulted with vigor. Thrax, of course, deviously avoided touching Ozzie, which drove Ozzie into a frenzy as he couldn’t cum while his prostate was rammed mercilessly over and over again, sending jolts of wonting piling up at his manhood.

            “P…Please…! It hurts, Master…! Please touch me…!!” Ozzie begged, almost close to tears.

            “Not yet, baby,” Thrax purred. “I’m not quite done yet.”

            So saying, with his rod still in him, the virus flipped the cell to missionary position and wrapped the latter’s legs around his waist, pummeling deeper into Ozzie until Ozzie could literally see white hot flashing stars in his mind’s eyes, bringing his Master in and out of focus.

            “Yes…!! Yes, Master! So good! That’s the spot…!!”

            “Mmh…” Thrax purred even louder than before as he moved faster and harder. “You’re tight as ever. You’re really gripping me in…”

            Feeling himself getting close, Thrax took Ozzie’s length and pumped it aligned with his thrusts, making Ozzie scream his approval in more ways than one. The built-up release within his cock ever since Thrax started blowing him threatened to explode from the double assault. Reaching desperately in vain to grab his Master’s thighs to control himself, his breath became more and more erratic, his screams of ecstasy a pitch higher.

            “M…M-Master…!! I’m…I’m going to cum…!!!”

            “Mmh…Me too, baby…! I’m cumming…!”

            Before Thrax could pull out, Ozzie came long and hard, his legs reflexively wrapped tighter around the virus’ waist, pushing him in deeper. The tight contracted inner muscles of Ozzie’s orifice clenched tightly around Thrax’s rod, forcing the virus to release his warm seed into him. Both of them cum like they’ve never cum before, their whole body tensed and arched as if they were having some sort of big scale cramp. It felt like forever before the tremors of their orgasm subsided. Thrax let out a soft groan before laying on top of Ozzie, his cock still inside him. Ozzie tentatively wrapped his arms around him, hugging him as if he was afraid Thrax would disappear from sight if he didn’t.

            “I…I came inside you…” Thrax panted, nuzzling against Ozzie’s cheek.

            “I know,” Ozzie replied just as breathlessly. “It…It feels good…”

            “You…You will be with child,” Thrax whispered, his tone sounding a little worried. “Your body is modified by me, remember? That’s how you’re able to get knocked up with Finn’s…”

            “It’s OK,” Ozzie stopped Thrax from continuing as he nuzzled Thrax back. “If that happens, I’ll be glad to carry your child. He or she will be a parting gift from you, and I will love and protect him or her with my life. You’re all I’ve got now, and when you’re gone, I want something of you close to me, to remind me of you.”

            “Baby…I…” Thrax hesitated for a while, trying to will his pride away before giving in to what he wanted to say, “I’m sorry…”

            “It’s OK. I love you. I love you so much, Master.”

            “Say my name, baby,” Thrax kissed his forehead in tiny pecks. “Let me hear you say my name.”

            “Thrax…” Ozzie said as his eyes welled up, hugging Thrax desperately. “I love you, Thrax…I love you so much…I love you so, so much…”

            “I love you too,” Thrax whispered to his ear, as if it was a secret only reserved for his beloved to hear. “I love you forever and a day, Ozzie.”

            Ozzie sobbed as he hugged Thrax tighter. Finally his Master called him by name. he could hear and feel the love his Master had for him by calling him his name. Thrax purred and hushed him as he picked him up in a sitting position, rocking him to and fro, trying to comfort him and tell him everything was alright.

            “Alright, break it up, boys.”

            Ozzie gasped as he saw the soldier cell coming up to him and pulled him harshly out of Thrax’s embrace. He was dragged and pushed towards the door, Drix catching him just in time. Drix gave him an apologetic look and picked up Ozzie’s clothes that were flung unceremoniously at his feet.

            “Put your clothes on, ho. It’s time to go,” the solder cell said distastefully. “Didn’t think you’d be his whore as well, but I’ll overlook this and not take you for de-tox, since you’re Mr. Pheo’s guy.”

            “No! No, please!” Ozzie tried to struggle from Drix’s arms as the cold pill tried to help him dress. “Please, just 5 more minutes! 5 more minutes with him, please!”

            “You had your time, ho. Now get dressed and get outta here!”

            “Don’t you dare call my baby that way, you son of a…”

            Thrax’s attempt to lunge at the soldier cell was quelled when he received a whack on his midsection by his baton. Thrax doubled over by the blow and coughed, almost vomiting.

            “No! Stop! Don’t do that!” Ozzie screamed but was held back by Drix.

            “Get the fuck outta here, ho! Take him away!” the soldier cell growled.

            “No…No, baby…” Thrax struggled to regain his composure and get up but was held down with the soldier cell’s strong foot. He had to admit that people from the army barracks were strong, but he didn’t think they could be that strong to subdue him just like that.

            “You stay the fuck down, virus! You had your lovin’ with that whore, now it’s time to go beddie-bye and say bye-bye to him before you get toasted the day after tomorrow!”

            “I’m sorry, Ozzie,” Drix apologized as he hoisted Ozzie onto his shoulder, holding him securely within the crook of his neck so that the cell would not use his morphing flexibility to slither out of his grasp. He nodded at the guard and gave a remorseful look at the virus before walking out of the door and out of the jail cell.

            The whole prison soon echoed with Thrax’s agonized roar and Ozzie’s wailing protests as the cell and the cold pill duo left the building.


	17. Chapter 17

            “It happened, didn’t it?”

            Ozzie coughed dryly as the last drop of bile trickled out of his throat and spat out into the toilet bowl. Making sure his stomach had done enough flip-flops, he slowly pushed himself up onto his feet with the edge of the bowl to support his weight. Drix helped him a little by carrying him by the armpits.

            “I…I dunno…” Ozzie replied hoarsely, the acidic bile leaving a burning feeling in his throat. “Maybe…”

            “Lemme check,” Drix offered as he sat Ozzie onto the toilet bowl after putting the lid on. He raised his shirt and examined his midsection. Sure enough, there was a purplish-blue round blob the size of a ping-pong ball nestled comfortably right on the spot. Ozzie could tell by the cold pill’s facial expression upon seeing the blob that their suspicions were confirmed.

            “Spit,” Ozzie cursed. “And it had to happen today of all days.”

            As you can tell, it was the day of Thrax’s execution where he would be taken down to the firing range of the army barracks where the city council, the mayor and selected citizens of Jackson County—Mr. Pheo included—would be there to witness the event, while the rest of the city would watch it live through television. Ozzie was at first advised against attending the execution, but the cell insisted on going, saying that if his Master had to go, he should be the last person to see sending him off. The execution was scheduled roughly an hour before Jackson’s next bowel movement, but half an hour before the execution time when they were about to make their move to the army barracks from home, Ozzie was seen whizzing past everybody, making a direct beeline to the nearest bathroom and puking his guts out.

            “Well, he _is_ a virus,” Drix stated as he gave a glass of water to Ozzie for him to gargle the aftertaste off his mouth. “His genetics might breed faster than when it takes about a week for a regular cell to conceive.”

            Ozzie sighed as he laid his hand over his still flat belly, caressing it unconsciously. He had told Thrax that he would be glad to carry his child, but he didn’t think it would be that soon.

            “Are you sure you want to go to the execution now that you’re like this?” Drix asked worriedly.

            “Watcha talkin’ about?” Ozzie replied incredulously. “Of course I do! This is something Thrax must know! He’s gotta know that even when he’s gone, part of him is still with me, that his legacy will live on.”

            “Legacy?” Drix eyed him warningly. “You’re not thinking of asking a child to continue what he couldn’t finish, are you?”

            “Well, no, I wouldn’t put it that way,” Ozzie backed away a little at the look Drix gave him. “I just…well, I just want the kid to remember his or her father, is all, so that Thrax would not be forgotten just like that, and that whatever Thrax did, I want the kid to be proud of his or her father, not ashamed.”

            “Jones, you understand that you are putting yourself in a dangerous position, not to mention Mr. Pheo and his family will be dragged into this as well. You are carrying a virus’ spawn, and knowing Mr. Pheo, he would go to the ends of Jackson to protect you from the advances of the army barracks and the city council, and it’ll probably cost him and his family’s life. Are you sure you want to go through this?”

            “I didn’t ask for Mr. Pheo’s pity,” Ozzie frowned as he got up and composed himself, washing his face and smoothing his hair. “Yes, he gave me a job, took me in to his home, and I’m grateful for that, but honestly speaking, I’ve never asked for it.”

            “Jones, please reconsider. It’s a virus’ spawn we’re talking about…”

            “Why do you always call me ‘Jones’ like some stranger?” Ozzie turned to him suddenly, glaring at him. “You only seem to call me ‘Ozzie’ whenever you’re sorry about me or something. How long have we been friends, Drips? What does it take for you to call me by my first name without making it like some sort of business transaction? And I’d appreciate it if you don’t call the kid ‘a virus’ spawn’. It’s a kid, not a disease, figuratively speaking. And I don’t plan to stay here much longer anyway, so you don’t have to worry your cherry ass about Mr. Pheo’s wellbeing.”

            “What do you mean by that?” Drix asked, surprised at Ozzie’s last statement.

            “Can we just go now?” Ozzie sighed and straightened his collar, deliberately changing the subject. “I don’t want Mr. Pheo suddenly poking his nose through the door asking how I’m doing and all that spit.”

            Drix frowned and followed after him. Mr. Pheo, as expected, asked about him, but Ozzie tucked his shirt in to cover his belly and waved his concern away, smiling as casually as he could as he passed it as nervousness over the event, still insisting on going despite Mr. Pheo advising him against it. Drix, before Ozzie got into the car, took the cell’s shoulder whispered into his ear persistently.

            “You’re still gonna explain what you meant by those words later, _Ozzie_.”

\--:--

            The atmosphere was solemnly quiet as everyone stood at their designated spectators’ area in the firing range. Mr. Pheo, who had the front row alongside the city council, had his hands on Ozzie’s shoulders, letting him know that he will be with him every step of the way, while Drix stood just behind the both of them like a bodyguard usually do. Ozzie swallowed, his heart pounding against his chest at the impending doom that will soon befall his Master.

            Everyone held their breath as the handcuffed Thrax was brought out and forward to the firing range. Ozzie almost forgot how to breathe as he saw the state his beloved Master was in. His eyes were even more sunken in than the last time he saw him, and his dreads were in a matted mess. His face and body was covered with old and fresh wounds and lesions, the new ones probably because he put up a struggle before being brought here. His killer claw was no longer encased in the huge heavy machine, but it was still covered with the same freezing agent Drix shot him back then when they were still in Frank and were still enemies. He was still half naked with the same black pants on, and the cell could see that the chest and stomach area was the parts that sustained the most injuries. He was still resisting a little when he was brought to the center of the firing range, but as soon as he caught sight of Ozzie standing there looking at him sadly, he stopped struggling and slouched a little, finally accepting his fate.

            “Any last words or requests, virus, before your execution?” the prison warden asked as he stepped up to Thrax once he was within the designated spot of the firing range.

            “As a matter of fact, yes. I want you to remove my handcuffs,” Thrax replied, and when his captors gave him a warning look and the warden was in alert mode, he rolled his eyes and sighed, “I just want to give my baby one last hug. Is that so much for a dying man to ask, or are you backing out on your offer?”

            After eyeing Thrax warily, looking to see any signs of foul play, the prison warden found none and gave the green light for the virus’ captors to undo his handcuffs. While Thrax massaged his wrists to bring the blood flow back in his hands, the prison warden gave eye-contact to Mr. Pheo, gesturing him to let Ozzie come up and give the virus his last request. Almost hurriedly, the cell came up to the virus and gave him a bear hug, with Thrax reciprocating the gesture.

            “You look awful,” Ozzie whispered bitterly, his voice choked. “What have they done to you?”

            “Not as bad as what they are going to do to me later, baby,” Thrax replied just as softly. “But at least it’ll be quick.”

            “Why…? Why does it have to come down to this, Thrax? Why?”

            “I don’t know, baby. It’s just how it is, I suppose, for a virus like me.”

            Thrax held him close and tilted the cell’s head so that he was looking up at him. Ozzie knew every little gesture his beloved Master made by now. Closing his eyes and going on tip toes, not caring about the crowd before him, he shared a deep, passionate kiss with him, igniting a fire deep within him that he was certain will never go out as long as he lived. He wished this moment would stand still and last forever, but unfortunately it was just wishful thinking.

            “Alright, boys. Time’s up.”

            Ozzie reluctantly let go of his oral hold on his Master’s lips at the tap of his shoulder by the prison warden. For a second, he tiptoed again and whispered at Thrax’s ear while putting the virus’ hand secretly on his midsection.

            “I’m pregnant.”

            Thrax widened his eyes in shock at upon hearing that. He looked at Ozzie, trying to see if there was any way that he was tricking him or just trying to make him happy, but there was no trace of deceit in him. In fact, before he was pulled away from the virus impatiently by the prison warden to taken back into Mr. Pheo’s care, Ozzie nodded, confirming his claims and had his hand briefly caressing his still flat belly for good measure. As the soldier cells re-cuffed Thrax, his yellow orbs never left the cell’s black ones, but they soon softened for a split second into a sort of resigned pride and joy knowing that at least his beloved pet will not be alone in this world without him.

            Ozzie reflexively felt like going forward but was held back by Mr. Pheo as the firing squad marched in and stood in place. He watched helplessly as the soldier cells made Thrax stand properly on his assigned target spot while the firing squad held their shotguns close to their hip. They wanted to blindfold Thrax but Thrax shook his head, refusing it because he wanted to keep Ozzie in sight until his last breath.

            “Will it hurt him?” Ozzie whimpered, trying to hold back his tears and be strong in front of his beloved.

            “The gun is a refined version of the usual plasma gun cops use,” Mr. Pheo replied as soothingly as he could. “The plasma is army barrack quality that is of nano-cellular in nature, and they act very fast to disintegrate a person’s shot area fatally. He won’t feel a thing.”

            Ozzie nodded, not sure whether to feel dread because Thrax was going to die and there was no turning back or to feel relief because Thrax would not suffer through this.

            The prison warden looked at his watch and faced the crowd, announcing the dreaded sentencing.

            “By the power invested in me by the honourable mayor and the respectable city council, the death sentence of Thrax Roja the virus for crimes against Jackson County is nigh!”

            Ozzie’s heart almost skipped a beat. Roja? Thrax Roja? That was his full name? All his days being with the virus, he had never heard of his full name. He almost felt thankful that the prison warden said it for he was wondering what sort of last name he should give their child.

            “Ready…!”

            The firing squad brought up their shotguns to their shoulder level at the ready. Ozzie and Thrax’s gaze locked in each other, knowing that this was it.

            “Aim…!”

            Ozzie and Thrax seemed to hold their breaths, their gaze never left its hold as the firing squad aimed their shotguns at Thrax.

            “Fi—”

            A massive tremor, almost like a Level 6 earthquake, suddenly shook the whole building, stopping the prison warden in mid-sentence. Everyone was forced headlong to the ground or fall on their asses over the tremors. Ozzie almost fell but was caught by Drix, possibly to instinctively save him from miscarriage. Before they even realize what was going on or get back on their feet, another tremor came in a split second and suddenly something that looked like a shard pierced through the atmosphere, landing onto the prison warden and some of the members of the firing squad, slicing them in two. The wave impact caused when the shard slammed in forced Thrax and the soldier cells who handcuffed him to be pushed backwards and further away, ramming against the wall of the firing range and almost bruising his back.

            “What in the name of Jack is going on here?!” the mayor exclaimed in the midst of the chaos.

            “I need answers, stat!” one of the soldiers around picked up his walkie-talkie and demanded whoever was on the other line to explain the situation, while the other remaining soldiers helped to direct the crowd out of the firing range. The reply came in a frantic static.

            “ _Jack…in an…cident…Car…ran off…major inju…Lotsa parts…dama…_ ”

            “You’re breaking up here, soldier! What the heck is going on there?!”

            “ _Jack…dead…Ja…dead…!!”_

            As soon as the static concluded, another catastrophe ensued. The shard, which later at a second glance revealed to be glass, caused a rip through the atmosphere and as all wound occur, blood started flowing out and along with it, the current started sucking everything within its proximity. Some managed to make it out of the vicinity but the rest were clinging onto dear lives not to be taken in by the strong current. Most of them weren’t so lucky in holding on.

            “Holy spit!” Ozzie, who made it out of the firing range with Drix and Mr. Pheo, exclaimed. “My childhood nightmare’s happening again!”

            “We have to get out of here, Jones,” Drix said as he escorted Ozzie and Mr. Pheo to the limo. “Jack knows when the strength of the current would reach here. We have to get as far away from here as possible.”

            “Wait! Where’s Thrax?! Where’s my Master??” Ozzie cried as he peeked through the entrance fence (where the current did not reach) to see him groaning as he tried to get up. Being behind the shard of glass, he was shielded from the strong current everyone else was fighting against, but at the same time he was still vulnerable to the current flowing from the other side of the shard he was shielded, and it was picking up speed. Ozzie wanted to go in but was quickly pulled back by the cold pill.

            “Jones, where do you think you’re going?!” Drix exclaimed in shocked disbelief.

            “I gotta go to Thrax! I gotta save him!”

            “Are you out of your mind, Jones? Do you want to get yourself killed? There’s nothing you can do! You can’t help him anymore! We have got to get out of here!”

            “No! I’m not gonna leave Thrax out there to die! This is my chance! I gotta save him!”

            “It’s too dangerous! You’ll be dragged by the current and Jack knows what’s going to happen to you outside there!”

            “I’ve been exposed to the atmosphere longer than you got into that lab dish college of yours, and I’ve leapt into a few bodies to boot! What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?! The moment Thrax steps outside there, there’ll be medics all over the place wiping Jackson down and disinfecting him and stuff, and Thrax would be taken down by them! He will die one way or another and I am not going to let either of that happen!!”

            “You’ve got a child in you! Sober up a little and think about it for a split second and don’t tell me you’re…”

            “Let him go, Drixenol.”

            Drix turned to Mr. Pheo in disbelief as he stopped struggling with Ozzie, but still holding the cell back in a death grip. The melanin cell gave him that familiar fatherly smile when the cold pill first met him and chuckled at Drix’s incredulous facial expression.

            “Osmosis is right, Drixenol. This is his only chance,” Mr. Pheo gave him the nice but firm look to stop Drix from retaliation. “We promised Osmosis that we would do our best to help Thrax but we didn’t fulfill that promise. Now that Jackson has indirectly given us a second chance to fix this, to save Thrax’s life when we could not, so why waste it? Admit it, Drixenol, you know that deep down inside you, you believe Osmosis and Thrax deserve each other, and the child they willingly created is your proof. If this catastrophe is not a sign from Jackson, what is?”

            Drix furrowed his brow, still hesitant as he looked at Ozzie’s frantic face as the cell looked up at him with pleading teary eyes, then at Thrax who was struggling to fight against the current while getting to the nearest and safest spot he could get to away from the pull of the current—kicking the soldier cells that held him captive away in the process—and then back at Drix again.

            “If the message from the walkie-talkie is true, then it won’t be long until we go down with him anyway. Let Osmosis go, Drix. I know it’s hard for you to accept this because it’s been so long since you got back a friend that you last thought dead, but Osmosis is still his own person with his own life to live and his own choices to make. You must respect that.”

            “Please, Drips…” Ozzie begged, squeezing the cold pill’s arm that held him. Drix’s heart ached seeing his friend with that forlorn look.

            “If it makes you feel any better, leave with him,” Mr. Pheo said suddenly. “I relieve you of your bodyguard duties, Drixenol. Go with him.”

            “But…But what about you, Mr. Pheo?” Drix asked worriedly.

            “Don’t worry about me, I’ll hold out. I know for a fact that Jackson signed up as an organ donor. We’ll just leap into whatever good organ parts are left of Jackson to be transplanted in. Who knows? We might meet again.”

            “But Jackson was quarantined because of Thrax, remember? He will never be a good enough candidate to make it even to the donor’s list because of that one medical record.”

            “He’s right, Mr. Pheo,” Ozzie agreed. “Come with us.”

            “Don’t be brash, Osmosis,” Mr. Pheo shook his head. “I’m not like either of you. I will coagulate just like everyone else out there. Besides, my family is here. If they’re going down with Jackson, I shall go down with them.”

            “M…Mr. Pheo…” Drix looked sadly at Mr. Pheo so readily resigned to his fate.

            “I’ll be fine. Go now, Osmosis. Your beloved is waiting.”

            Ozzie went quickly to Mr. Pheo and gave him a hug and a gratuitous kiss on the melanin cell’s cheek.

            “Thank you, Mr. Pheo, for everything.”

            “You really make me wish I wasn’t married, Osmosis,” Mr. Pheo chuckled and kissed him back on the forehead. “You take care of him now, Drixenol, and the child within him.”

            “I will, sir,” Drix saluted before following behind Ozzie as the cell made a run for it to the entrance and into the firing range. As Mr. Pheo entered the car, he saw Kiaran seated on the floor of the car, yapping with questioning eyes as if asking where his Master was.

            “Oh, I almost forgot about you,” Mr. Pheo said as he opened the door again. “Your Master is in there. Go find him and be careful.”

            “Should we wait for them, sir?” the driver asked worriedly as Kiaran leapt excitedly out of the car and headed to the direction of the firing range.

            “No. It’s OK. I let them go. They’re on their own now. Let’s go home and find the missus and the kids.”

            While the limo drove away, with Mr. Pheo giving one last look at the firing range, Ozzie and Drix were inside, holding onto whatever was sturdy enough and struggling to make their way towards Thrax’s direction. A distant yapping made Ozzie stop in his tracks.

            “Kiaran?!” Ozzie exclaimed as he turned to the direction of the yapping. Sure enough, there was the little puppy trying to reach its Master while fighting the current.

            “I’ll handle this!” Drix said as he took out a black capsule from his chest plate and stuffed into his cannon. Aiming at Kiaran, he shot at it, revealing a tar-like substance that expanded and spread out like a huge net, covering the puppy. The net stuck onto Kiaran like glue and with the help of Ozzie, Drix pulled the puppy to safety by their side. Ozzie peeled the sticky net off the puppy and hugged it, apologizing to the puppy, which was licking him and wagging its tail happily, for forgetting about it and leaving it behind.

            “Good boy, Kia. You’re a good boy. I’m so sorry I forgot about you,” Ozzie said between licks, then looked at Drix, “I gotta hand it to you, Drips. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

            “Only from the finest labs Jackson can provide,” Drix winked proudly as he showed off some muscle. “We can’t carry it around. It’ll hold us up. Here, put it inside my chest plate. We’ll take it out once everything’s settled.”

            “Alright,” Ozzie replied. As soon as Drix opened his chest plate, Ozzie put the whining puppy inside a corner among the capsules. “Stay, Kia. Stay and be a good boy, OK? I promise you’ll be out soon.”

            Kiaran whined in protest for a while, but soon settled down where he was. Ozzie patted its head before Drix closed his chest plate to carry on with their arduous journey. A few things whizzed past their heads and they had to dodge a few people who actually flew past them—knowing that they couldn’t help them because their hands were full and that they might get pulled along to the current if they did—but they carried on. There were a few close calls in which the thing they were grabbing on for support was too flimsy or couldn’t fight against the pull of the current, but with each other’s help they managed to have their feet on solid ground, watching helplessly at the others who suffered the fate of many others who had been sucked out of Jackson’s body throughout the city’s lifetime, just like what happened to Ozzie’s family when he was 12.

            After what felt like forever, they were finally near where Thrax was. Ozzie spared no time in rushing towards the virus and glomp him like there was no tomorrow. Thrax was taken by surprise at first, unable to believe for a moment that the love of his life was back in his arms, but once the shock settled down, he hugged the cell back and kissed him passionately, literally making out in front of the awkward cold pill.

            “Alright, you guys. Get a room.”

            Ozzie broke the kiss and grinned sheepishly before looking around, saying, “We gotta get you outta those cuffs, Thrax.”

            “Here,” Thrax handed him a plasma gun. “Swiped that from one of the soldier buggers before I kicked him off me just now.”

            Ozzie nodded and took the gun, aiming the mouthpiece at the chain of the handcuffs and blasted away. Thrax grinned in satisfaction once the chain broke and slammed his frozen hand against the wall, shattering the ice and releasing his killer claw free from the cold, numbing pain. He flexed his fingers a little to get the blood flowing and the feeling back before activating his killer claw, elongating it to burn off the cuffs around his wrists. They melted into putty in no time and virus let out a long satisfied laugh.

            “Big Daddy Thrax is back, baby! Yeah!”

            “Someone’s definitely gonna be a big daddy,” Ozzie grinned, his hand on his still flat belly, “in more ways than one.”

            “Baby, you tryin’ to turn me on?” Thrax chuckled huskily as he held Ozzie by the waist with one hand and touching the cell’s belly with the other, looking at the cell seductively.

            “As much as I want to, we can’t. We’ve got a situation here.”

            “He’s right,” Drix agreed as he pointed to the direction of the shard. “The current is starting to get stronger on our side and the blood is starting to clot around the wound. If it’s true that Jackson’s dead, we’ll be trapped in here.”

            “Well, let’s not wait,” Thrax said as he carried Ozzie bridal style. “We gotta make a run for it.”

            “To where? There’s nowhere to go,” Ozzie said worriedly.

            Thrax replied by jerking his head towards the wound.

            “You mean you wanna leave the city? Go towards the current we’ve been struggling _not_ to get caught in and get thrown out there to the atmosphere?!” Drix exclaimed, his eyes couldn’t go any wider.

            “Congratulations, cold pill. You just earned an A in spotting the obvious,” Thrax replied sarcastically, raising an un-amused brow.

            “Have you any idea what’s out there?! Dead or alive, Jackson is still bound to be attended by medics! He’d probably is back in quarantine right now, getting ready to be sprayed and hosed down with disinfectant!”

            “Your point being?”

            “You do realize you are a virus and Jones is a partially infected cell. Thanks to you, virus, you caused Jackson to go into quarantine mode! That kind of atmosphere will kill the both of you! I may be a cold pill and immune to quarantine environments but what about you guys?”

            “I think he’s got a point there, Thrax,” Ozzie replied. “What if Jackson is already taken into quarantine? We might never get out into the open even if we survive the environment.”

            “How can you be sure Jackson is already in quarantine?” Thrax challenged. “He could still be wherever he is and the medics are not here yet, and maybe if we waste time blabbering about the what-ifs, we’d be giving the medics a chance to get here in time and he might just be taken for quarantine now. And where have your sense of adventure and that spunk you always had in you gone to, baby?”

            “Guess you tamed me,” Ozzie looked away sheepishly.

            “Well, we’ll have to bring that back now, won’t we?”

            So saying, Thrax, with Ozzie in his arms, made a dash towards the stronger part of the current. Drix was stunned for a moment at the virus’s sudden brashness before following after them, hollering for them to wait for him. As soon as they were within proximity of the stronger current, Thrax maneuvered his body position, holding Ozzie close to him, until the current pushed him against the glass. Drix copied him and soon, like a rewind button, the trio was sent sliding upwards along the glass until they were out of the wound and out in the open. They ended up falling down to Jackson’s chin before they rode on a random blood drop that landed them on Jackson’s shoulder. It smelt of very diluted disinfectant, meaning that Jackson was still dressed in hospital patient attire when whatever happened to him had happened.

            They looked around for a while and realized the cause of the city-wide catastrophe: they were in a very mangled up police car and Jackson was at the driver’s seat, his forehead, face and neck were pierced with huge shards of glass from the windscreen and he was bleeding all over, with more wounds, mostly fatal, almost everywhere on his body, possibly because he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. His lower half of the body was trapped under the steering wheel and the area where the accelerator, brakes and clutch were supposed to be were sunken in, literally crushing Jackson’s legs. The door to the driver’s seat was also gone, thrown out about 5 feet away from the car, revealing a vast field, possibly part of a park. At the passenger seat was a woman and the backseat a teenager and a toddler, most likely Jackson’s family. They were wounded as well, but the trio was not sure whether they were alive or not.

            “Let’s make a move on,” Thrax said as he got back up to his feet, his arms still cradling Ozzie possessively. The distant sounds of sirens could be heard and a torrent of voices ensued where curious passers-by and worried onlookers surrounded the accident scene. Thrax smirked smugly at Drix and said, “Told ya that the medics ain’t here yet.”

            “Yeah, whatever, virus,” Drix grumbled as he did the habitual brush on his shoulder. “We should leave now.”

            With the aid of Drix’s jet propulsion, the cold pill allowed the virus and the cell to hang onto him as he jumped down from the edge of Jackson’s shoulder and out of the car down to the grass below. The trio, as soon as they got on solid ground, made a run for it before the medics approached the car and started spraying disinfectant around it and all over Jackson’s dead body.


	18. Chapter 18

            “Well, well, well. Fancy meetin’ you here, guys. Small world, ain’t it?”

            Thrax growled at the familiar voice. Ozzie looked in surprise at the person sitting on the tip of the stray dog’s nose as the mutt sniffed about looking for something to eat.

            “Klepta! What are you doing here?”

            “Just bein’ around the neighbourhood. doll,’ Klepta winked as he leapt off the dog’s nose before the dog turned around to the other direction. Landing on his feet gracefully, he patted off the dust he got from walking around the dog’s dirty fur and came up to Ozzie, and wasn’t surprised when Thrax came forward to shield the cell from him.

            “Of all people, we had to meet you,” Thrax growled.

            “Wimpy as usual, aren’t we, brother?” Klepta sighed in dismay, rolling his eyes in a Why-do-I-even-bother manner. “I _did_ mention we might meet one of these days. Didn’t think we’d meet again so soon, though. Aren’t you at least happy to see me in this crazy grassy wilderness?”

            “Not if I can help it.”

            “Nice getup, wimp. What did ya do, wrestle with chicken pox or somethin’?”

            “It’s a long story, Klepta,” Ozzie chuckled weakly. “You might wanna sit down to listen to our tale.”

            “Who’s that?” Klepta asked, pointing at Drix with his thumb.

            “He’s my friend Drixenol from my old city,” Ozzie introduced the cold pill to Klepta. “Just call him Drips. He’s used to it.”

            “No, I’m not,” Drix complained, while Klepta chuckled lightheartedly.

            “Nice to meet cha, Drips. The name’s Klepta, from the Rabies strain, half-brother of that wimp over here,” Klepta ignored Thrax’s glare when he said that and stroke his chin as he studied Drix from head to toe. “Ah, didn’t think you’d go for big, bulky guys, doll.”

            “He’s not my ex, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Ozzie scowled, sending the cold pill blushing awkwardly, the Rabies virus into peals of laughter and the Red Death virus seething.

            “Hey, hey, I’m just playin’ ya,” Klepta tried to compose himself after laughing some. “Don’t put that face, doll. It ain’t pretty on ya. ‘Sides, if he’s your ex, he wouldn’t be standing here alive and kicking. Ol’ wimp here would’ve done him in.”

            “Ha ha, very funny,” Thrax growled sarcastically.

            “Is this really the kind of crowd you hung out with, Jones?” Drix whispered, uncomfortable with the company they’re with right now.

            “You don’t know the half of it, Drips,” Ozzie rolled his eyes.

            “Hey, where’s Kiaran?” Klepta asked, noticing that the HIV puppy was not around.

            “Oh spit! I almost forgot about him…again!” Ozzie exclaimed and gestured Drix to open his chest plate. Kiaran eagerly jumped out and leapt into Ozzie’s arms as soon as it was open, and after done licking Ozzie’s face, it wagged its tail and yapped happily at the sight of Thrax, wriggling out of the cell’s arms and jumped about Thrax’s feet, asking to be picked up.

            “Humour the pup, Thrax. Kia hadn’t seen you in a long time,” Ozzie smiled at the incredulous look on Thrax’s face at Kiaran’s actions. Thrax stole a look at the smile that got him so smitten over the cell in the first place and sighed.

            “Stupid mutt,” Thrax grabbed and picked the puppy up, in which Kiaran licked his face happily, much to the chagrin on the virus who was being laughed at by his half-brother at the sight. After licking a few more times, the virus grimaced and handed the puppy back to Ozzie.

            “That was some crazy spit you pulled over there,” Klepta said as he jerked his head at the car crash.

            “What happened exactly?” Ozzie asked, curious. “We know he got into a car crash, but we dunno what happened in between, what with whatever’s going on when we were inside the body.”

            “I might be able to help you find out, but this ain’t the best place to talk, doll,” Klepta said as he searched for the dog he was riding on. Luckily for him, the dog had found something to eat and was sitting still at a spot near a bush a few miles away from them. “Let’s get back to my mansion. We’ll hang out at my porch.”

            “Mansion?” Thrax raised a skeptical brow.

            “Yeah, mansion. Think I can’t afford that?” Klepta gave a challenging look at his half-brother before turning to Ozzie, “You’ll love it, doll. It’s the best I’ve been in so far. It’s got a great view.”

            “Are you sure we should?” Drix asked Ozzie warily in a soft tone.

            “What choice do we have?” Ozzie shrugged. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Trust me.”

            “You’re the expert,” Drix shrugged and sighed in defeat.

            “Straight up, Drips. Can we go, Thrax, please?”

            Thrax looked at the cell and his half-brother for a while before sighing and running his claws through his dreads, saying, “I suppose we gotta need a place to bunk in for a while. Lead the way, runt.”

            Following behind Klepta as he went off with his crazy super leaping abilities, Thrax picked Ozzie bridal style again and ran, with Drix tailing behind them as fast as he could as they made their way swiftly towards the stray dog before it walked off without them and entered through one of its droopy ears.

\--:--

            “No way! Get out! You’re spittin’ me!”

            The quartet was settled in the little porch of the mansion located near the eye area that gave them direct view to the outside world. Judging by the wealth amounted in the private mansion he had, Ozzie could tell that Klepta ran this dog city quite successfully, and judging by his loud exclamation, he had already found about Ozzie’s little ‘excess baggage’ after Ozzie and Thrax told him about their encounter in Jackson County.

            “No, runt. We just find it nice to see you goo-goo eyed over the fact that you are going to be an uncle soon, yo,” Thrax replied sarcastically as he allowed Ozzie to help him nurse his wounds that he got from his time in the army barracks prison. Ozzie just smiled quietly while he dabbed the medicine on the virus’s cuts before applying band-aids on them, while Drix just sat there quietly a few feet away from the trio, feeling rather out of place at the moment.

            “Dang, doll! You really got guts!” Klepta, after being silent for a full 10 seconds to digest the news he was given, clapped Ozzie’s back happily, earning a glare from his half-brother. “No cell has ever, _ever_ in the history of mankind would ever willingly want to get knocked up with our spawn. Well, not that I know of, that is. You just beat the odds, doll.”

            “I just did what I had to do to preserve Thrax’s legacy, is all,” Ozzie replied as he wrapped the last bandage on Thrax’s wounds. He kissed Thrax’s forehead and started packing the first aid kit, saying, “All done, Thrax.”

            “Thanks, Ozzie baby,” Thrax replied as he moved his limbs a little to make sure the bandages were not restricting his movements. So far, so good.

            “Going on first name basis now, aren’t we, wimp?” Klepta commented, raising an amused brow.

            “Don’t push it, runt.”

            “Well, at least you’re partially infected and your body modified. If you were still a pure cell, you’d be signing your death warrant.”

            “Why is that?” Ozzie asked.

            “Don’t you know?” Drix suddenly voiced out after watching the display before him quietly for so long. “The main reason why no cell would ever willingly want to be impregnated by a virus is because technically they would not be impregnated. They would be considered infected. The spawn will explode out of their bodies once the due date arrives and goes on with their mission of reaching maturity and infecting other cells. That’s why I was worried about you and asked you whether you are sure if you want to carry on with this.”

            “Ex…Explode…?” Ozzie’s face paled at the thought of his belly swelling and bursting into a million pieces like the crazy alien movie he watched from one of Frank’s dreams, possibly after Frank watched a movie of the same genre.

            “He’s right on that, doll,” Klepta replied. “Nicely put, cold pill. I was beginning to think you’re gonna turn invisible and disappear into oblivion if you carry on sitting there unnoticed,” he chuckled at Drix’s glare at him, “but seriously, doll, that how we virus spread the disease even more to other bodies without having us going around infecting each and every one of them one by one ourselves. That’ll work us to death, so we have our little spawns to do the work for us, although glory-hog wimp here prefers a more…solo approach to things, which is why he’s not really making it big scale and all…”

            “Don’t test me, runt. You haven’t gotten as far as I have, so don’t think you can judge me,” Thrax stood up and growled, activating his killer claw and glaring venomously at Klepta. Quickly, Ozzie came up to Thrax and hugged him by the waist to stop him.

            “So, Klepta, you said you might help us find out what happened to Jackson. How are you going to go about that?” Drix, seeing the situation needed appeasing, decided to intervene.

            “Now that you’ve mentioned it,” Klepta realized before going towards the study room. The trio followed after him and watched him fumble for what looked like some sort of remote and a walkie-talkie. He took the remote and aimed it at a blank wall, which parted to reveal a huge flat-screen TV. Turning on the walkie-talkie, he used the remote again to turn on the TV, showing the view of the outside world before he spoke, “Yo, Mess! Try and get the dog to some nearby human TV that’s showing news or something.”

            “Roger that, Boss,” the walkie-talkie replied before the view in the TV changed, showing the dog moving. The view was bumpy as the dog was controlled to go where Klepta wanted it to go. Soon enough, the dog stopped and sat in front of a shop that sold television and looked at one of the TV showing the news at the display window.

            “I run this city pretty well, eh?” Klepta looked smugly at the trio and pointed at the TV screen. “That was Mess, the mayor—wait, ex-Mayor—who was the line. I made him take the dog to somewhere we can find out what happen to your Jackson fella, and I thought he’d bound to make it into the news somehow, what with the big kaboom you just caused back there. Ah, here we are.”

            Everyone turned to look at the TV. After a news broadcast on a drugstore robbery, the newscaster began announcing the news on Jackson’s accident.

            “This afternoon, a tragic accident happened near Edelweiss Park after a hijack and a car chase went bad. The hijacker, who was known as Jackson Terrence, died on the spot when he escaped from Newcastle Government Medical Facility Centre and hijacked a security car along with his family hoping to avoid quarantine after he was being diagnosed with exposure of the recently discovered disease known as the Red Death viral disease. His family, namely his wife Yolanda Terrence and his 14-year-old son Tyler Terrence and 3-year-old daughter Corinna Terrence, were with him in his escapade but have also suffered multiple injuries, possibly critical or fatal, but the police have yet to reveal their condition at the moment. The area is being quarantine at the moment to avoid exposure and spreading of the Red Death to neighbouring area. As you can see here, this is the car chase…”

            “Woah, look at that spit!” Klepta exclaimed as he watched the car chase footage broadcasted on TV and the accident that followed. “Guess you ended up killing the bugger after all, eh?”

            “You watch your tongue, canine virus! Some of the people I care about were in there!” Drix shouted in anger.

            “Well, they’re long gone and you left them there to be here, ain’t ya? Deal with it, cold pill.”

            “Why, you…” Drix growled as he moved forward towards Klepta and activated his hand cannon, only to be held back by Ozzie.

            “Chill, chill, Drips. He’s just being straightforward. No need to get so uptight about this.”

            “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you because of all the hype back in Greg—and coz I’m so eager to get rid of the pup—but you might wanna hope that your kid will come out a girl,” Klepta said as he gestured at Ozzie’s still-flat belly.

            “Why do you say that, Klep?”

            “Because for one thing, Kiaran will not grow properly until he is bonded body, heart and soul with a female Master, and you’re a male Master, so he’s probably gonna stay that way until a female Master takes him in.”

            “But why not me? Why can’t I be his Master?”

            “Well, according to Caesar, the AIDS guy who gave me the litter, it’s all in the pairings, the polar opposite of the genders. A male dog must always have a female Master and vice versa. Yeah, he’s attached to you now and all that, but his growth is not gonna go anywhere unless you get him a polar opposite of his gender. It’s always been that way, according to Caesar, and none of his family ever questioned about this genetic tradition. A normal HIV kid can only survive with the dog. The dogs are like normal viruses: smart, deadly and all that and they grow old as their Masters would, even breed the same time as their Masters. Kia is gonna have to grow up with your kid—if it comes out a girl—and they would be sort of sharing a lifeline for life. That means if Kia dies, your kid dies as well.”

            “Then why the fuck did you give us this kind of troublesome mutt in the first place?!” Thrax growled angrily at upon hearing this news.

            “Well, I dunno what sort of effect it would do if Kiaran was paired with someone other than a HIV virus, but think about it, wimp. Your future daughter would become almost immortal. Anyone who hurts or kills Kiaran, your daughter is dead meat for sure, but they don’t have to know that. Your future daughter would be almost immune to all injuries inflicted on her. She will heal with no scars and it’ll take forever to try and take her down to even give any effect on Kia. Kia would be like…like her life-sustainer or something. Wouldn’t you want your future daughter to last long enough to carry on your legacy without having to worry that she would get herself killed? And since you’re not of the HIV or AIDS family, who knows what sort of cool powers might manifest on Kia that would alter your future daughter’s lifespan and abilities? Wouldn’t that be a cool thing to consider?”

            “Not if my daughter is to be sharing lifelines with this mutt!”

            “I dunno, Klep,” Ozzie said worriedly. “It may sound like a pretty good thing to consider since we are quite concern about our child’s future wellbeing, but Thrax may be right as well. What if it goes wrong? What if it didn’t work out and my future daughter is left with the bad side effects, or if someone figured out a way to defeat my future daughter through Kia? What if I give birth to a son instead? There’s no telling what and how my pregnancy is going to turn out, let alone giving birth to a child.”

            “Our child will turn out fine, baby, it’s just that this mutt will complicate things,” Thrax glared at his half-brother with a vengeance.

            “Look, doll,” Klepta sighed and shrugged in defeat, “if it makes you guys feel any better, Kiaran won’t die without a real Master to be paired with, but he will definitely not grow properly without one, and if your kid turns out to be a son, or if you’re still uncomfortable with the fact that your future little girl is gonna live and die by Kia, I’ll be glad to take Kia off your hands and give him to a real HIV virus instead. Happy?”

            “I guess,” Ozzie replied quietly, feeling a little disappointed that he would not get to keep Kiaran if it didn’t work out.

            “You know what you have to do now, wimp, now that you’ve impregnated our doll here,” Klepta turned off the TV as he glanced at Thrax knowingly. Thrax grimaced and looked away.

            “They don’t have to know.”

            “You bloody knocked our doll up, wimp, and you’re not thinking of taking him officially as your mate?”

            “Of course I do. He’s having my child. He’s my responsibility and he’s my baby. Not that it’s any of your business.”

            “What about you, doll? Do you have any intention to be this wimp’s official mate, now that you’ve got his little bundle of joy growing inside you?” Klepta asked Ozzie.

            “Well, yes…” Ozzie blushed bright red at the thought of it, eyeing Thrax once in a while, unable to believe that Thrax was actually indirectly proposing marriage to him, “I mean, well, I didn’t really think about it because we thought he was going to die, but…yeah, I have considered being his mate.”

            “Then they must know! It’s tradition! Every member of the Roja family must go through this ritual once they’ve decided on a mate.”

            “Fuck, what century are we in, the ‘30s?” Thrax exclaimed exasperatedly. “I’m not going to go through some stupid ritual just because of some old-fashioned way of thinking…”

            “A thinking only Pops and Big Mama would have, true,” Klepta said in a firm tone, “but you know how she will find out about things even if you’re a gazillion miles away from her. She _will_ find out you’ve knocked up our doll here and she _will_ get pissed that you eloped with our doll without going through the ritual.”

            “That’s the whole point of _avoiding_ the ritual and _getting away_ from them,” Thrax grumbled and rolled his eyes in disgust.

            “What exactly are you guys talking about?” Ozzie asked.

            “He didn’t tell you?” Klepta looked at Ozzie incredulously. When Ozzie shook his head, he turned to Thrax with the same facial expression. “You didn’t tell him?! Tell me you didn’t forget telling him the most important ritual of the Roja family!”

            “Shut up, runt. You’re not helping here,” Thrax growled, his tone wanting him to have this conversation over.

            “Tell me what exactly?”

            “It’s not important, Ozzie baby. You don’t have to know,” Thrax wanted to wave the question away but was given an angry warning glare from Klepta.

            “Don’t even think about, wimp. I can’t believe you didn’t tell him about the…ugh! Why do I bother?” Klepta groaned as he turned to Ozzie and took him by the shoulders, “Ozzie doll, this is one of the most important rituals our Roja family ever has and it’s been done for generations. No one gets past the Roja family door without this ritual because we’ve been doing this since our forefathers’ time. It’s tradition.”

            “Oh, for Jackson’s sake, get on with it!” Drix said exasperatedly.

            “You must meet the parents and they will test you,” Klepta continued, ignoring Drix’s outburst. “They will put you through a wringer to see if you’re worthy of being the ol’ wimp’s mate. They did that with all our other mothers, and it’s not pretty.”

            “What sort of test?” Ozzie swallowed nervously.

            “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”


	19. Chapter 19

            Ozzie, again, felt like a goldfish in a fish bowl as he sat in the middle of the guest hall surrounded by Thrax’s family, with Thrax standing behind him and his hands on his shoulders to ease his nervousness.

            It didn’t take long for Mr. and Mrs. Roja, the Roja Sisterhood (meaning Thrax’s and Klepta’s other mothers) and all the other Roja siblings to find out about Thrax’s latest achievements, especially with Jackson, what with his accident making it worldwide in the news. By means mysterious even to Thrax and Klepta, the latter suddenly received a message from his mother when one of the Black Death relative dropped by into the dog city for a while telling him that the Roja family has found out about Ozzie’s existence and his condition and will be paying a visit soon. In fact, they even found out where they were and got together to meet up in the dog city Klepta was running through whatever vessel they were travelling on, may it be rats, cats, dogs or bugs, and also the occasional dirty street bums that reached over to touch the dog.

            Ozzie got to meet the Roja Sisterhood first—Ursula Lyssa, Klepta’s mother, from the Rabies family, Trixy Salmonellosis from the Salmonella family, Andie Mycobacterium from the TB family, Flazen Rubella from the German Measles family, Gertrude Flaviviridae from the Yellow Fever family and Marushka Filoviridae from the Ebola family—and the other siblings that followed. It was a little hard trying to keep track of all their names, but Ozzie managed call them just right with what little training he in the immunity force on memory-enhancement. Most of them were decently friendly to him, but the cell could tell that not all of them seemed approving towards having him in the family. All the time, Thrax kept Ozzie close to his side, not allowing anyone to even think of trying to do anything out of the ordinary to his intended mate.

            While he tried to get to know each and every one of the Sisterhood and the siblings, Ozzie’s observation skills kicked in as he studied each of their features. Each member of the Sisterhood had their own unique features, but one thing they shared in common was the fact they looked younger than they should. Ursula Lyssa was the main reason Klepta got his dirty blonde hair but he definitely did not inherit her bluish-grey skin. She had beautiful red eyes with snake-like pupils, just like Klepta had, and she stood just a head shorter than her son. She had a long tail that had a little bit of dirty blonde fur in the end, indicating her lineage as a canine virus, and in fact, if you were to ignore the snake-like eyes, you could tell that her facial features are slightly canine in nature. In her wake, she had 3 other children, a boy and two girls, all of them probably a difference of 1 or 2 years from each other. The boy—Kurt was his name—looked more like Ursula with his canine features and his hair and skin. You could consider him like a male version of his mother, while the girls—twins Khora and Kincaid—were almost like Klepta with the skin and the looks, but their hair would probably be inherited from Mr. Roja.

            Trixy Salmonellosis looked like someone who just graduated from high school for someone who had 4 children. She had blood-red hair that was shoulder-length and she was below Ozzie’s eyebrow in height. Her skin was the same colour as the virus Ozzie saw riding on the oyster back in Frank, only it was a shade lighter. The only odd one out about her was that she had 4 legs, two on each side, and when she held out either hand to get some finger food to eat, an extra hand would automatically pop out of her wrist to take another extra. Her 4 children—boys Ambrose, Alexi and Antoine and girl Amrita—were all taller than her (as tall as Thrax and Klepta) and it seemed that the boys were the one inheriting most of the physical features of their mother than the girl.

            Andie Mycobacterium was someone who looked like she had a distaste for anything and everything. With her aquamarine eyes, she looked at Ozzie from head to toe as if he was a stain on her coat and did not want to talk to him the rest of the way. Her long flowing silver-blonde hair that reached all the way to her ankles reminded Ozzie of Serione’s, only unlike Serione in attitude, she was colder and crueler. She had tan freckle-like spots all over the backside of her white body, from the nape of her neck all the way down to the tip of her heels, but the freaky thing was that her hair had a life of its own. When her two twin boys Rouge and Rodeo tried to approach Ozzie to talk to him, her hair suddenly reared up like a snake and wrapped around their necks, dragging them away from the cell, and when they tried to protest, she gave them a look that could kill someone a thousand times over. Ozzie swallowed just by the look of it.

            Flazen Rubella, on the other hand, was a jovial and happy-go-lucky woman. She had a very thick German accent courtesy of her lineage and she had her onyx elbow-length hair tied up partially into a bun while the loose ends were tied into a long braid. She’s as tall as Ozzie and was a little bit round around the edges, most probably because of her slightly gluttonous way of eating and also because she was a mother of 6 children—boys Hugo, Hershey, Holmes and Harold and girls Henrietta and Harriette—under her tow. Her skin was a shade redder than Thrax and it felt quite warm to the touch, being that part of her viral symptoms was heaty rash and fever, and she was the only one in the Sisterhood who didn’t have claws.

            Gertrude Flaviviridae and Marushka Filoviridae seemed to be always close together, never apart, even though they looked nothing like twins. They looked more like they were the yin and yang of each other. Gertrude had dark brownish-black hair while Marushka had light reddish-white hair, almost like light pink. While Marushka had very dark blue, almost coming to black, skin, Gertrude had skin almost the same colour as Serione. While Gertrude was silent and soft-spoken, Marushka was lively, bubbly and did most of the talking, and Gertrude only added in whatever she thought Marushka was missing out in her conversation. The only thing that they have in common was they had the same amount of kids under their tow, but even that, the gender of their children were the polar opposite of each other: Gertrude had 3 sons Emmett, Eden and Edison and is pregnant with an upcoming 4th son while Marushka had 3 daughters Natasha, Nooka and Nefertine and is pregnant with an upcoming 4th daughter. Ozzie suspected probably being under the ‘Viridae’ family had something to do with their closeness and their yin and yang nature. Just as Klepta had mentioned before, Marushka had a strong sense of grandeur of her heritage as one of the deadliest virus next to AIDS, and didn’t miss the opportunity to brag about it to Ozzie, much to Thrax’s disgust.

            “Hey, Jones,” Drix nudged Ozzie a little to catch his attention.

            “What is it?” Ozzie asked in a soft tone, noticing the way Drix gestured him was trying to ask him something private. Thrax leaned in a little to listen as well.

            “Do you realize that none of the Sisterhood’s children are with a mate? It seems as if Thrax is the only one here that is planning to settle down.”

            “Well, now that you’ve mentioned it,” Ozzie muttered as he scoured around some more, “you’re right. They don’t seem to have a mate or a girlfriend/boyfriend with them. Is there some sort of an unwritten rule or something that you must be the first, Thrax?”

            “No, there is no such thing,” Thrax admitted as he held Ozzie closer. “Well, not that I know of, anyway. I’m not sure why it is this way, actually.”

            “Maybe it’s coz they’re afraid of the ritual and wanted to see how bad it is on you, wimp,” Klepta, who also caught wind of the conversation, muttered his reply.

            “For once in your miserable life, runt, can you not be such a smart-a…”

            Before Thrax could finish his berating over his half-brother, Mr. and Mrs. Roja came in at last. When they came in, the whole scene in Klepta’s mansion was silent and solemn. Ozzie cringed at the sight of the heads of the Roja household, and could almost feel the fear everyone felt, especially towards Mrs. Roja, the matriarch of the sisterhood. Mr. Roja had the skin Klepta inherited from and his black dreads were as long as Klepta’s. His greenish eyes traveled across the room and rested on Ozzie, regarding him a little, while Mrs. Roja literally scrutinized him with her black orbs from head to toe in a manner much worse than Andie while she flicked her chin-length purplish-red hair and adjusted the strap of her dress that hugged her reddish body just right. Seeing her features and her claws, Ozzie knew that Thrax had inherited almost everything except the eyes and the hairstyle from this she-virus.

            Everyone knew the drill as soon as they showed up. They all went into the guest hall of Klepta’s mansion and arranged the seat in a circle, with the seat in the center meant for Ozzie to sit on and had Thrax be with him as well, while the rest of the family, Klepta and the other siblings included, sat on the circle of chairs, which is where the situation was right now. Drix, who was not part of the family, knew this was not his party to crash. He stayed out of this by hanging around at the study room and watching TV of the outside world, babysitting Kiaran at the same time, but after 5 minutes of watching, he couldn’t resist. He hid at one corner and listened in to the conversation between the members of the Roja family.

            “So, son,” Mr. Roja, who had a deep, rich voice with a bit of a southern accent, broke the ice, “this is the person you wish to take as your mate?”

            “Yes, Pops,” Thrax replied dourly, and Ozzie felt a slight squeeze on his shoulders, not sure whether it was to reassure the cell or himself.

            “I believe he is with child? Your child, in fact?”

            “Yes, Pops.”

            “And this cell was formerly someone you have taken from a city you destroyed and made into a sex slave?” Mrs. Roja asked, making the cell shiver a little. She sounded cold and unemotional, with eyes that can pierce through the very depths of a soul, and Ozzie could tell she was a no-nonsense woman.

            “Yes, Big Mama. That was our original relationship.”

            “What is your name, child, and what was your profession before you met our Baby Thrax?” Mrs. Roja asked Ozzie, ignoring the slight grimace Thrax gave at upon hearing that family pet name.

            “My…My name is Osmosis Jones, ma’am,” Ozzie replied, his voice slightly trembling. “I…I was in the immunity force, stationed in the mouth.”

            “I do not need to know how you met our boy, since it is pretty obvious at first glance, but I assume you had not been in good terms with our boy in the beginning,” Mr. Roja said in a matter-of-fact way.

            “Yes, I admit. We were mortal enemies and I did try to take him down, and I was unwillingly taken from the city to be his sex slave, but…but that was in the past. I no longer have bad feelings for Thrax anymore. We’ve been through a lot and we’ve come to love each other very much and…”

            “Save it,” Mrs. Roja warned, cutting off Ozzie’s words like they were rubbish. Ozzie shrank back again, holding his tongue.

            “You had a good glimpse of him and mingled with him before us,” Mr. Roja addressed the family, mostly towards the Sisterhood. “What say you of his eligibility to this family?”

            “He’s a little shy,” Ursula commented. “He’s got the looks, he’s got the smarts and the stamina, and the body of a physically well-trained man to boot, and he’s definitely got the quality of a quiet, well-spoken man, although I can tell sometimes he may act strong and outlandish at times to cover his insecurities, but aren’t we all that way when we were young? I think he’s good for Thrax and the family.”

            “I disagree,” Andie replied. “He was from the immunity force. He was technically from a group whose very purpose is to fight the cause we’ve strived so hard to achieve throughout the history of medical espionage. Accepting him would be betraying our own heritage. He tried to stop Baby Thrax from taking over his city in the first place, so what’s stopping him from preventing Baby Thrax taking over other cities once he’s all cozying up with him? I would not let a white blood cell—even a partially infected one—enter my family if I were you, Big Mama.”

            “True, but you have to see what he had accomplished with Baby Thrax over the months they’ve been together,” Trixy noted. “Not once had he tried to fight against Baby Thrax’s cause. In fact, he had been assisting Baby Thrax through and through in his mission to make it into the books, even though he was forced into it, but it’s not like he resisted. If he had done the opposite, they wouldn’t be here with us now.”

            “I agree on that, Sister Trixy,” Flazen replied with a carefree laugh. “Look at that little cell. He is such a cute little boy, looking so forlorn and so in need of love and companionship, and yet at the same time he could be so feisty and energetic, seeming to be always on the go entertaining us all just now even though he knew he’d be tired out because he’s pregnant and all. And look how smitten he had gotten our Baby Thrax into. It’s about time Baby Thrax got a load off his shoulder for a while and live a little. He’d make a great daddy—I can just imagine now—and the cell is his perfect match. Who says opposites don’t attract, no?”

            “He is really a sweet boy,” Gertrude replied quietly in a submissive tone, “I kinda like him.”

            “He may be a sweet boy, Sister Gertrude,” Marushka voiced out, “but does he have what it takes to be a Roja? Sure, he was a cop from the immunity force of his city’s finest, I’ll give him that, but that’s no good enough. Has he got the guts to be willing to make sacrifices for the good of the family? Has he got what it takes to make it out as a Roja? He’s just a partially infected cell modified by Baby Thrax who can only walk around in the open air without the fear of coagulating, and he may have the ability to pierce his hand through barriers for Baby Thrax to get his prize, but that’s about it. Other than that, he’s just excess baggage, an inconvenient luggage carried around with nothing else to offer. We have to look at both sides on this, Big Mama, Pops.”

            Ozzie found it hard to believe he was sitting there listening to all this as Thrax’s siblings carried on with their ideas of Ozzie after their mothers spoke their minds. Aside from Klepta who gave nothing but praise towards Ozzie, the rest were passing judgments directly at him and were wagging their tongues off over their opinion of having Ozzie in the family, as if the cell wasn’t sitting there to begin with. Although the good side was that he didn’t have to worry about them talking behind his back and backstabbing him or something, but downright insulting him in front of his face like he didn’t exist was a little harsh. He wondered if Klepta was right, that this ritual was the reason why all of Thrax’s siblings were still single. He could tell from the small movements Thrax made while he stood there behind him that the virus was also equally uncomfortable and that he wanted to rebuke at them for badmouthing his intended but couldn’t because of the watchful eye of Mr. and Mrs. Roja.

            “Is that everyone?” Mr. Roja asked, and when everyone nodded quietly, he turned to his main wife, “Well, darling, what do you think?”

            “He needs to work out a little more,” Mrs. Roja said as she got off her seat and circled around Ozzie, pushing Thrax gently aside while running her hand along the cell’s shoulders in an almost seductive manner, “but that won’t be a big issue. Surprises come in small packages, anyway, and I have always wanted to know how it would be like to have a cell-virus hybrid for a grandchild. I had expected the others spawns to get started on settling down since my Baby Thrax here is such a lone ranger, but seems like I’ve been mistaken. But Sister Marushka is right,” she bent down to trace along Ozzie’s chin with her claw, “we gotta know if this little baby here got what it takes to be a Roja.”

            “What do you plan to do, Big Mama?” Thrax asked, his tone slightly worried for a moment there. “He is with child. If you’re gonna give him the ritual, please do it in a way it won’t harm my child.”

            “Oh, we’ll think of something, alright,” Mrs. Roja replied as she came close to Thrax, standing just below Thrax’s chin in height, caressing the virus’ cheek and making him flinch just slightly, “Big Mama Plexia will think of something to test your little mate-to-be here, but it’ll have to depend on him to survive this.”

            After Mr. and Mrs. Roja nodded in acknowledgement at Ozzie, giving them their initial welcome, the meeting was adjourned. Everyone left to their designated guestrooms in the mansion to retire for the day, leaving Thrax and Ozzie looking like as if they’ve just remembered to breathe.

\--:--

            “That was a close call, doll,” Klepta said as he patted Ozzie’s shoulder. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask you to start it on there and then.”

            Thrax, Klepta, Drix and Ozzie were in Ozzie’s room talking about what had happened a few hours ago. By Mr. Roja’s orders, Thrax and Ozzie were requested to stay in separate rooms before the ritual next day, but since Drix was not part of the family, he was allowed to stay with Ozzie to watch over him. Later in the middle of the night, Thrax couldn’t resist and snuck into the room to check on his beloved, and Klepta, who saw Thrax sneaking in, joined him as well a few minutes later, much to the elder virus’ disgust but grudgingly welcomed nonetheless.

            “This was worse than being on trial or something,” Ozzie heaved a sigh of relief as he groomed Kiaran. “I guess I understand how our convicts feel when we interrogate them.”

            “Hey, at least some of our mothers and about half of our siblings seemed to like you. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

            “Yeah, I guess…” Ozzie said, his eyebrows creased to a frown as his hand flew to his mouth, holding back his urge to puke.

            “You feeling alright, baby?” Thrax asked, concerned.

            “Well, after all that gathering hype and tension I kinda forgot my morning sickness, well, sorta,” Ozzie replied quietly. “Once it was over, I started feeling a little nauseous again and Miss Flazen from the Sisterhood gave me some old wives’ remedy for morning sickness,” he showed him a small bag of sour mints before popping one into his mouth, “and she’s right. I do feel a little better now. Your Big Mama came in to see me for a while. We didn’t say much, really. She just asked me if I was doing OK and we gave each other a staring duel or some kind before she told me to go to bed early to prepare for tomorrow.”

            “Damn it!” Thrax cursed under his breath. “Damn it, that bitch! She knew my baby is pregnant and she still wants to carry on with the ritual. This is the main reason why I don’t want to go through this! It’s all your fault, runt!”

            “ _My_ fault?” Klepta exclaimed incredulously. “Hey, it was _your_ fault for knocking our doll up in the first place! Besides, it’s just a matter of time before they knew anyway. I _told_ you Big Mama will find out one way or another.”

            “Pardon my intrusion but,” Drix intervened the conversation, “I know I’m not part of the family and not supposed to have anything to do with it, but I couldn’t help but hear that Mrs. Roja said something about depending on Jones to survive their test. What do you suppose it is?”

            “Not something you should know if you are aware of your outsider situation.”

            They turned around in shock to see Andie standing there looking at all of them with a facial expression of someone who just caught students playing truant. Thrax frowned at the sight of her.

            “What are you doing here, Mommykins?”

            “You shouldn’t be here, Baby Thrax,” Andie replied. “Big Mama had forbidden you to visit the cell until tomorrow.”

            “It’s none of your business, Mommykins. Go away, and don’t call me that pet name. You know I hate it.”

            “Neither do I hearing you call me the way my baby boys call me, but not as much as you would hate me going to Big Mama and Pops’ room right now and tell on you.”

            “You wouldn’t dare!” Thrax flexed out his killer claw, only to be held back by both Ozzie on his waist and Andie’s mind-of-its-own hair on his wrist.

            “Wouldn’t I now?” Andie smirked cruelly. “Now go back to your room, or else.”

            Thrax, seeing that Andie’s tone meant business, knew that it would be better if he didn’t stir up any trouble lest Ozzie became collateral damage. He retracted his claw and waited for Andie’s hold on his wrist to be released before he gave Ozzie a goodnight hug and a kiss. Andie gestured Klepta to leave as well, in which Klepta shrugged and obeyed.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow soon, alright? You just try to get some sleep,” Thrax said as he caressed Ozzie’s cheek.

            “I will. You too,” Ozzie replied, leaving a few butterfly kisses on the virus’ cheek.

            With that, the two got up and left, but not before Klepta turned to Drix and Ozzie and whispered only for the duo to hear.

            “I wouldn’t know what the test might be. It differs for each of our other mothers, but it’s definitely something we’ll find out soon enough.”

            Klepta’s voice that was filled with dread over the thought of it was the same dread Ozzie was feeling at the moment.

\--:--

            “Big Mama, no! Anything but that!”

            The Roja family, Ozzie, Thrax and Drix were all standing on the head of the stray dog while it was sleeping near the dumpster. There were a lot of roaches and rats scurrying by, but they were not looking at them. They were eyeing at a much bigger rat—probably bigger than the rest of the rats combined—sitting on a rusty old dustbin lid chewing what looked like bird carcasses. It was brownish-black in colour and probably heavier and dirtier than any other rats they had ever seen. Ozzie shrank backwards at the sight of it.

            “I would assume this is the best way to test little Jones’ worthiness here and also rid of the bane of your father’s existence,” Mrs. Roja replied. “Killing two birds with one stone as you might call it. If he is infected as you have made him, he should have attributes pertaining to a T4 cell. If he can prove himself to be capable to live on his own without you, he is Roja material.”

            “He’s only a partial T4 cell; this would prove too much of a test for him. Have you forgotten that he is with child, Big Mama? He can’t…” Thrax’s protests were caught in his throat by his mother’s glare.

            “He can and he will. We virus live a harsh life with the certainty of death hanging in the balance of our life. I have lost 3 husbands before I married your father and had you, and even when I was pregnant with you, I managed to take down 5 bodies in a row. I lived out my life fine by forcing myself not to dwell on the loss and survived the odds. I will not have a future in-law who is not prepared to accept this sort of consequence and not be able to be independent and fight for both his life and his unborn child to survive. Have you forgotten about survival, Baby Thrax, or you’ve gone soft in the head over this little cell?”

            “No, but…just…just let me do this. If you wanna test anyone, test me. I can…”

            Both Ozzie and Thrax gasped as four claws wrapped around Thrax’s neck and slammed the virus down onto the ground below, the sharp claws embedded through it. Ozzie wanted to run forward to help him but he was held back by one of Trixy’s son Ambrose. Once Thrax got his mind bearings, he realized that it was his father Mr. Roja with his extended claws around his neck holding him down glaring at him with venomous eyes.

            “Listen to your mother, boy. This is a ritual done by many generations before me and no one, I mean _no one_ , is allowed to question it. It is a test meant for your intended mate, not for you. Even a partial T4 cell should have certain special attributes that he may not yet realize and it is our duty to find out what it is before deciding his eligibility to the family. It’s all about quality and elitism in the blood, boy, not some superficial thing you youngster call ‘love’ these days. I will not hesitate to kill you if you dare to make this any difficult for him and the rest of your family, especially for your mother who calls the shots around here, understand?”

            Ozzie had never seen Thrax so vulnerable and helpless under the mercy of his father, forcing him into submission by his claws, and Mrs. Roja looking at her husband doing all these things to his son without a single expression of care at all, as if it was the right thing for her husband to do. The rest of the family seemed to be standing neutrally allowing all this to happen, some of them a little fearful and not daring to help him. Ozzie finally understood the extent of the reign of his ‘Big Mama’ and his desperation to leave the family and avoid the ritual. After seeing that his son was no longer struggling, he retracted his extended claws to let go of his hold on Thrax’s neck before standing aside, his facial expression looking as if the incident just had not happened at all.

            “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, little Jones,” Mrs. Roja continued as she flicked her hair again, “this will be your test. You will go into that rat there and look for Adam. Once you’ve got him, kill him. If you manage to bring his heart to us to prove that you’ve killed him, we will consider your worthiness to the family. Rouge and Rodeo will go with you, but not to help you. They will only observe you.”

            “Are you sure you wanna do this, Jones?” Drix whispered warily in Ozzie’s ear. “She asking you to murder someone, and you’re not exactly a killer or anything, not that I doubt you, but…”

            “I’ve killed before, Drips, well, sorta killed before,” Ozzie replied as he braced himself for it. “Like Thrax told me: Just close my eyes and get it over with; it’ll get easier every time.”

            “Why not me?” Klepta asked when Andie’s boys Rouge and Rodeo appeared from the crowd, flashing their mischievous grin at the cell. “I’m closer to Ozzie than everyone and I’ll promise not to help him.”

            “That’s exactly because you are close to little Jones than anyone else that you are not allowed to go with him, runt,” Mrs. Roja replied, giving Ozzie an idea of why Thrax would call Klepta ‘runt’ in the first place. “Rouge and Rodeo don’t know little Jones and therefore are able to observe him in a neutral and fair way. Oh, and boys?”

            “Yes, Big Mama?” Rodeo and Rogue stepped up towards the matriarch.

            “Here’s your communicator,” Mrs. Roja said as she handed the phone to Rouge, the elder of the twin. “Inform me from time to time whatever that goes on in the mission. It has three buttons in it that my other communicator will receive. Report to me using the white button. If little Jones succeeds in the mission, press the green button. If he fails, press the red button. Got it?”

            “Got it, Big Mama,” the twins replied as the elder pocketed the phone into his slacks.

            “Now go, little Jones. Time’s wasting,” Mrs. Roja said as she shoved Ozzie forward. Before Ozzie could turn to bid farewell to Thrax, Rouge and Rodeo exchanged naughty glances and grabbed Ozzie by each armpit without warning before running towards the edge of the stray dog’s head. With a loud “Geronimo~!” by the twins, they leapt off the head with Ozzie in tow, making Ozzie scream in horror, and while they were in midair, they elongated their hair and tangled it to each other before it formed a sort of parasail, keeping them in the air as they glided all the way down to the body of the big-ass rat they were supposed to infiltrate, landing on their feet. Ozzie doubled over and puked not only because the pungent smell the rat had that triggered his morning sickness he had long since forgotten because of all the hype, but also because of the shock he had thanks to the twin’s surprise sky-diving.

            “Wh…What the Frank was that all about?!” Ozzie shouted as he keeled over and puked some more after that exclamation.

            “Well, don’t say we didn’t help you just this once,” the twins replied simultaneously as their hair de-tangled from each other and retracted back to shoulder-length. No doubt it was an attribute inherited from their sourpuss mother.

            “Help?? You call that crazy spit stunt that almost got me killed ‘help’?!”

            “Would you rather walk and climb all the way down the dog to get here?” the twins asked, not missing a beat of each other’s words. “You’d be torn apart by the other rats on the way, and the ol’ wacko would kill us if anything happens to you and his spawn.”

            _Wacko, huh?_ Ozzie thought, finding out another insulting nickname Thrax was given. He spat out the last bile lingered in his mouth and stood up, wiping his mouth hastily, “Can you please don’t do that?”

            “Do what?”

            “Talking like this, like you guys are in a choir or something.”

            “Sorry, it’s a habit,” the twins grinned before one of them spoke, “I’m Rouge, elder than Rodeo here by three minutes. The way to tell us apart is to look at our skin,” Rouge said as he rolled up one side of his double-sleeve to show him the back of his elbow and arm, lowered his collar to show the nape of his neck, “I got Mommykins’ spots, while Rodeo doesn’t.”

            “Sorry we didn’t get to talk to you or anything last night,” Rodeo said. “Mommykins is a little bit overprotective. She doesn’t allow us to talk to strangers even though we’re already way past that stage.”

            “No offence taken,” Ozzie replied. He straightened his clothes a little before turning to the rat, looking for an entry point. “Right, let’s get started.”

            “Don’t you wanna have a heads-up first before you start barging all over the place?” the twins asked, genuinely surprised at Ozzie’s eagerness to work on his test.

            “You can fill me in later once we’ve settled down somewhere properly. Let’s go, guys.”

            The twins looked at each other questioningly before shrugging and followed after Ozzie as they entered the body through a half-opened scab on the rat’s left shoulder.


	20. Chapter 20

            Ozzie and the twins were seated in a rundown café somewhere at the spinal cord area of rat city and probably the only place that was even remotely clean. Just like the rat city he’s been in where he and Thrax met Cox, this rat city was, as expected, just as sanitarily desolated. In fact, there was no need to even wonder how the citizens of this rat city was; they were just as crude and vulgar, maybe even worse, as the previous city he was in.

            “So, ready to hear about this Adam guy you’re supposed to snuff out?” Rogue asked as he downed a mug of beer he just ordered together with his twin brother. Ozzie settled with his sour mints just fine. He didn’t exactly trust the cleanliness of the café much.

            “Yup. Fill me in.”

            “Well, as you heard from Big Mama, your test is to take down Adam and bring her his heart as proof you killed him. What you don’t know is that this Adam guy here is our uncle, Pops’ eldest brother.”

            “You…You mean Mrs. Roja told me to kill off a family member?!” Ozzie exclaimed. “But…But why? Why me? Why now?”

            “There’s always this civil war going on between Pops and Uncle Adam,” Rodeo replied. “Pops was actually descended from the very virus who first spread his reign of terror in Europe in 1347, and Pops’ family in the later years are all purebred Black Death viruses with their own territory to run and spread the disease. It was a pact signed and sealed by all the siblings after Pops’ dad got killed in 1833 a few months after the humans gave him the name ‘Black Death’,” Rodeo grinned at Ozzie’s facial expression at the last statement, “Yes, Jonesy. You heard it right. Our Pops is really, really old—you don’t wanna know how old—but still going strong. The pact was honoured for decades and we stayed on our own turf, until Uncle Adam decided to break it. You can say Uncle Adam is a bit of a power megalomaniac.”

            “He runs this rat city and he wanted to become as powerful as our 1347 ancestors, maybe even more,” Rouge said as he shrugged in dismay, as if it were old news. “He had been rather ruthless in his ways of conquering all the territories designated for the siblings. He killed all our aunts and uncles until Pops was the last one standing. Our cousins both short and long distance were able to escape his harms and took over other territories across the globe, and lucky for them, Pops is the only person left that was closest in blood to Uncle Adam that he had to defeat. Pops is the youngest in the family and wasn’t about to be screwed around by someone who broke the pact, and he had evolved a lot since the last time they’ve met, so Pops and Uncle Adam are more or less equal in strength, unable to defeat one another.”

            “So I’m chosen to do the dirty work,” Ozzie concluded as he popped another sour mint. Rouge noticed the facial expression Ozzie had on his face and leaned close until their noses were almost touching.

            “You don’t sound enthusiastic, Jonesy. Something bothering you there?”

            “Thanks for noticing,” Ozzie replied sarcastically as he backed away and pretended to be very interested with the shape of the twins’ beer mug.

            “Not too keen on killing Uncle Adam, are ya?” Rodeo smirked. “You ain’t much of a killer, are ya?”

            “I’ve killed before in my line of work and when I was with Thrax,” Ozzie retaliated. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

            “Well then, why the long face?” the twins asked simultaneously.

            “Please don’t do that,” Ozzie grimaced at the way the twins spoke as if they could read each other’s minds and know what the other was going to say, then sighed and said, “It’s just that…well…I just don’t want to kill unless necessary.”

            “This _is_ necessary!” the twins exclaimed before Rouge took over the conversation, “You do wanna get into the good graces of Big Mama now, don’t you? You do wanna officially become that wacko’s mate, don’t you?”

            “Y-Y-Yes, but…”

            “Then what’s the problem?” Rodeo asked.

            “I just…I just don’t like the idea of killing someone for the sake of passing a test, you know? I mean, I have been an accessory to murder by Thrax a lot of times, but there was nothing I could do about it then, but for the sake of being accepted into a family? This is just ridiculous! Aren’t you even the least bit upset that I’m going to kill your uncle?”

            “You’re just gonna have to deal with this, Jonesy boy,” Rouge replied nonchalantly. “Once Big Mama says you have to do this, there is no turning back. He’s only a half-uncle anyways. No big losing one. We’ve got plenty from Mommykins’ side.”

            “Yup,” Rodeo nodded in agreement. “’Sides, yours is just a walk in the park. Our other mothers had it a lot harder than what you’ve got.”

            “What if I fail? What if I get caught? What would happen to Thrax then? It’ll tear him apart to know I’ve failed, or worse if I die doing this!”

            “We’ll just have to see how it ends now rather than dwelling on the what-ifs now, shan’t we?” the twins replied together, crossing their arms against their chest.

            Ozzie really hated it when they did that.

\--:--

            “If whoever is to blame of all this, it should be you.”

            Drix was at the verandah of Ozzie’s room when Thrax decided to come in and check on the puppy Ozzie loved so much, and before Thrax had said anything, the cold pill had started the conversation with that remark.

            “What do you mean?” Thrax glared at Drix as he picked up Kiaran.

            “All this,” Drix flailed his arms about. “Frank’s death, Jones being your sex slave, Jones getting raped and knocked up, Jones being your tool for murder, Jones now stuck in this stupid test that he may or may not come out alive from…It’s all because of you.”

            “What do you mean my fault? I never asked for this. It’s my bitch of a mother who asked for this sort of test, not me.”

            “Well, everything else is your fault, whether you admit it or not!” Drix bellowed as he turned to him, his face fuming with anger. “Things were fine in Frank when we assumed it was a common cold, but it turned out to be you and you ruined both mine and Jones’ life by destroying the city and killing the only person Jones had ever loved! Jones wasn’t queer before he met you, virus! You corrupted him and made him this way! If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been in this mess!”

            “Well, cold pill,” Thrax growled as he faced up to Drix, “if it weren’t for me, he would’ve been fried with Frank. Is that what you want? To let him die with you and that worthless whore of his?”

            “I did _not_ say that! I _never_ said that! That’s _your_ assumption!”

            “That’s pretty much what I assume, hearing what you just said. You seemed to imply that it’s my fault Ozzie baby didn’t die in Frank with you.”

            “He was going to come back to us! He was going to come back to save Frank, and _you_ blew it!”

            “I did what I had to do, jackass. It’s in my blood, in my nature to come, see and conquer. What sort of virus would go against his own killing nature? ‘Sides, Frank was already a goner whether my baby went back there or not. I made sure of that.”

            “That’s right, just like you made friggin’ sure that you’ve turned Jones into a sex slave!” Drix argued as he poked at Thrax’s chest. “You made him do such unspeakable things and treated him like a…a fuck toy, for Jack’s sake! And worse, you made him into a killer! Cells don’t kill unless it’s bacteria-s, germs and viruses like you, not going around killing their own!”

            “Technically he’s a T4 cell, so he should be killing, if not assisting one,” Thrax corrected, shoving the cold pill away from him.

            “You made him into a T4 cell! He never wanted any of this!”

            By then, their squabbling had started to attract a little attention from the whole Roja family, who were outside at the front yard enjoying a bit of an outdoor tea. Mr. and Mrs. Roja looked up for a while and regarded the cold pill and their son before deciding to ignore them and concentrate on Rouge and Rodeo’s report on the communicator. The Sisterhood also looked up, but decided to mind their own business as well since their squabbling, from their distance, was a little too indistinct to hear anyway. Only the children of the Roja family, Klepta included, were interested at what they were saying. They looked at each other as if they were thinking the same thing before making a dash upstairs to listen in. Klepta and a few other bolder siblings snuck into the room itself to get a clearer hearing, hushing the puppy who spotted them and coaxed it to come to them so that they would not be busted. Some of them even started making bets to see who would be the victor of the argument.

            “What makes you think you know anything about what he wants?” Thrax retaliated, anger starting to seethe through his head.

            “I know he doesn’t want you to kill anymore,” Drix growled. “That’s why he agreed to do what I told him, to do what you so-called betray you. He knew asking you to stay put and be a good citizen would be like asking you to change the colour of your skin, but he didn’t want you go around killing people anymore. Didn’t you even listen to what he said when we were at the prison in Jackson? He said he didn’t want you to kill anymore because he was afraid he may lose you. Whatever twisted way you used, you have made him heads over heels with you, and I cannot contend that, and if you loved him as so you claimed, you wouldn’t have let Jones go through with this thing, going on another killing spree and being a tool for murder again, even under the threat of death of your father.”

            “It is exactly because I was under the threat of death by my father that my baby decided to do this! I never forced him to do this! I was willing to take his place! I was willing to die for my baby, but because my baby didn’t want me to die that he allowed my mother to get him to do this! I’m not entirely at fault here! I thought we were over this. I thought you already knew how we truly felt for each other!”

            “It is entirely your fault!” Drix shouted. “That’s why I said that he’s in this mess because of you! You just don’t get it, do you? You know what, honestly? One part of me had wished that you would just die.”

            “Oh, really now?” Thrax raised a brow, not amused.

            “Yes! I wished that you would’ve just got sentenced there and then and Jones wouldn’t have to put up with all this! Jones would’ve been with me and be hunky-dory fine with Mr. Pheo and we could forget that you have ever existed! Now look what have you done with him!”

            “What have _I_ done to him? What have _you_ done to him?! You never liked my baby to begin with; I can tell from the way you guys interacted when I saw you at the nose dam! You made him turn against me, the only person he had ever been longer with than you and whom he had built a trust with, and now you’re behaving as if you own him or something! You don’t even have the decency to call him by his first name! You’re a fake, cold pill, that’s what you are. A hypocrite! Let’s see what my baby thinks once he hears about how you really think about my sentencing!”

            “How dare you call _me_ a hypocrite?!” Drix slammed his fist against the railing of the verandah; all the while both of them were totally oblivious that they were being watched. “I’m only saying this because it is the truth, and I am saying this because I am concerned about Jones’ wellbeing! I do not wish to own him or anything, unlike you!”

            “Are you now? Is that why you are so intent on so-called ‘helping’ my baby to betray me? That you were so keen on keeping him away from me while I rot in that army barrack prison? That he never knew I was going to be sentenced to death until the last minute?” Thrax smirked at Drix’s facial expression, “Oh, don’t act as if you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve been with my baby long enough to know that every body gesture and facial expression he makes are tell-tale signs of what goes beyond the doors between you and him. And since we are being so honest to each other right now, why don’t you just admit why are you really so overprotective over my baby for? Is it because you’re jealous?”

            “What?” Drix widened his eyes in incredulous shock. “Why would I be jealous about…”

            “Is it because you’re upset that you never got it on with my baby and I did?”

            “Why, I never…”

            “Is it because you know you can’t get it up for Ozzie anyway? You don’t even have the balls to begin with.”

            “You are being ridicu…”

            “Is it because he’s mine and not yours?”

            “No, I…”

            “Or is it because you know that I’ve scored with him, that he’s with me and having my child, which is something you cannot do for hi…”

            “I DID IT BECAUSE I LIKE HIM, ALRIGHT?!”

            Thrax smirked as the outburst came out. Everyone who was listening in held their breaths to stop themselves from gasping and alerting them. Drix leaned back against one end of the verandah, his hand on his mouth as his eyes was showered with emotions of disbelief at what he just said.

            “So, you like him, eh? Why don’t you just come out and say you’re in love with him?” Thrax growled as he inched closer to the cold pill, his killer claw flexed out and glaring at him with venomous eyes filled with jealousy and hatred over this potential love rival.

            “I…I don’t love him,” Drix blushed through his red and yellow gel-cap face.

            “You like him but you don’t love him?” Thrax snarled. “Yeah, right. Pull another one.”

            “Do I look like I’m lying to you?”

            “At this rate, you just might.”

            “In this case, I don’t have to,” Drix had his hands on his hips challengingly. Thrax tried to see through Drix’s eyes to find out any deceit but found none, much to his disappointment. He had wanted a reason to just gouge this cold pill’s eyes out.

            “What does that sort of feeling you have suppose to mean, anyway?”

            “Well, I kinda…well, ‘like him’ like him. I like him more than a brotherly or friendly fashion, but not enough to be as far as a lover.”

            “Ah, a semi-romantic-semi-platonic kind of relationship, eh?”

            Drix nodded and wouldn’t say more on that, looking away awkwardly.

            “You know that I can’t let you live knowing that you are going to take my baby away at any given moment.”

            “And you know that you can’t kill me because you would hurt Jones’ feelings in the process, so we’re even.”

            Thrax glared at the cold pill for a full 10 seconds before he growled exasperatedly and grudgingly retracted his killer claw as he leaned against the other end of the verandah, sighing. By now, Klepta and the siblings knew the fight was over and there was nothing left to see. Everyone left except Klepta, who wanted to hear whatever leftovers they might berate to each other.

            “I hope those psycho twins are at least looking out for my baby,” Thrax said. “I’ll kill myself if I find out Ozzie baby dies doing this, but of course, I’ll kill those psycho twins first.”

            “And it would be even worse if he failed or succeeded but lose this child in the process,” Drix commented. “You know for sure that he can’t bear to lose another child, most definitely not this one! And what if he succeeded and your Big Mama still doesn’t accept him into the family? What if she backed out on her promise? What if she twisted everything and made him unable to pass the ritual and the test? What then?”

            For once, Thrax didn’t know the answer to that question.

\--:--

            The first thing Ozzie did as soon as they were done wining and dining in the café while discussing about Adam at the spinal cord was to ask directions to the nearest red district around the area. Rouge and Rodeo followed behind him, wondering what he would do next so that they could report back to Mrs. Roja. It wasn’t easy trying to get a straight answer from the most vulgar of people in rat city, but with a bit of charm and wits he learnt from his days as a decoy for Thrax and a lot of guts from his training in the force, he managed to get someone to tell him where the red district was, which was at the near genital area of rat city. Once they got there, the first place he went into was a boutique shop for devious fashion. The twins looked at each other in surprise at the sudden twist of events.

            “Hey, Jonesy!” the twins called after him. “I thought you were supposed to go complete your test or something!”

            “I am,” Ozzie said as he browsed through the clothes on the racks, picking out a few to try on.

            “Shouldn’t you be, like, you know, go out there and look for him at his hideout, or in the brain, maybe?” Rogue asked curiously as he saw all the clothes that Ozzie picked were not exactly decent in nature.

            “Go on a full frontal assault? He’ll tear me apart. We gotta go through it in a more…diverse action. Be a little…spiffy about this.”

            “Spiffy?” the twins furrowed their brows in confusion.

            “You told me before that your Uncle Adam is a bit of a player, ain’t he? That his sexual preference were a little colourful than you’d expect?”

            “Yeah, Uncle Adam had always been known to have more than one lover in bed almost every week, regardless male or female,” Rodeo replied.

            “Then I’m just gonna do what I do best when I was with Thrax,” Ozzie replied as he saw he had picked enough clothes to try on and made his way to the dressing room.

            “You don’t mean you’re gonna…” Rogue finally got the idea before Rodeo did.

            “Yup, I’m gonna be spiffy,” Ozzie said from behind the dressing curtain. “Now help me out here. See which clothes look good on me.”

            The twins spent the rest of the next one and a half hour helping Ozzie to decide which clothes fit him for the night’s plan.

\--:--

            “Alright, boys. Keep me posted.”

            Mrs. Roja terminated the conversation and pocketed the communicator. Mr. Roja looked up from the newspaper he was reading and the Sisterhood, who were playing Scrabble, looked up at her expectantly. Klepta, who just so happen to pass by and heard Mrs. Roja talking on the communicator, gestured Thrax and Drix to join him on eavesdropping.

            “How goes the mission?” Mr. Roja asked.

            “More or less moving along,” Mrs. Roja replied nonchalantly. “Seems like our little Jones just figured out Addy’s fetish for orgies. This is going to be interesting.”

            Thrax would’ve rushed out and demanded his Big Mama to call off the test if it weren’t for Drix holding him back by the armpits and Klepta pressing his hand against his mouth, clamping them shut.

            “It’s a little harsh, don’t you think, Big Mama?” Ursula said. “After all, he _is_ with child.”

            “Like I said,” Mrs. Roja flicked her hair and sipped her drink. “If he is not prepared to do whatever it takes to get the job done, then he hasn’t got what it takes to be a Roja. ‘Sides, he’s young. If this child of theirs doesn’t work out, he’ll have plenty of chances to have one again with Baby Thrax. My Baby Thrax is a real man, after all. Chip off the old block.”

            Klepta and Drix had to add extra energy to keep the fuming Thrax at bay as they continued eavesdropping.

            “If he succeeds in doing this, will you actually take him in as one of us?” Marushka asked.

            “Of course we would,” Mr. Roja replied. “He would have proven to be Roja material and at the same time rid me of a lifetime rival. A Roja never backs down on his words.”

            “After all, we could use a bit of diversity in the family,” Mrs. Roja smirked. “I’d love to see how a cell-virus hybrid would turn out. It’s not everyday a cell is willing to carry our spawn.”

            “What if he fails?” Trixy asked.

            “Then all the more reason to make Baby Thrax find a much better candidate than this weakling.”

            “What if he survives this, but fail the test? What then?” Andie asked.

            “He would be useless,” Mrs. Roja replied coldly. “We do not want someone who cannot fulfill our requirements and we do not tolerate failures.”

            “What will you do with him?” Gertrude asked timidly.

            “Simple,” Mr. Roja replied in a matter-of-fact way. “We kill him.”

            This time, both Klepta and Drix had to forcefully drag Thrax away before he caused an all-out riot.

\--:--

            Wart Disco-tech was bustling with life as all cells, germs, viruses and bacteria-s were gathered there dancing and boozing the night away, or maybe looking for a chance to get laid. The music was blasting in such a way that it could burst both the eardrums of a regular human being, but the louder and stronger the beat was, the more the people there enjoyed it. Some of them were seated in private rooms to blot out most of the noise to enjoy the music without having to yell at each other to make themselves heard, but most of them were really hitting it out.

            “Man, Jonesy! I can’t get over that outfit you’re wearing!” Rogue exclaimed over the blaring music as the trio entered the disco club, almost unable to take his eyes off the cell.

            “Well, you guys picked it for me, didn’t ya?” Ozzie smirked. “Deal with it!”

            “Dang, now you’re making me wanna dance with ya, Jonesy!” Rodeo shouted as well as he came close to him. “That wacko is really missin’ out on this!”

            “Hey, I saw him first, yo!” Rogue growled as he pushed his twin brother away and took Ozzie’s hand. “I’m the eldest; I get to dance with him!”

            “Hey, hey, hey, hands off the merchandize, y’all!” Ozzie grumbled as he pulled his hand away. “Neither of you are gonna dance with me, because I’m dancing with the big leagues tonight. He’s your uncle, for Frank’s sake. You wanna let him know you guys are here and blow off my cover? You were supposed to observe me, ain’t ya?”

            “Chill, Jonesy,” the twins sniggered and backed away. “We gotcha. We’ll be at the bar. We’ll follow behind you once the fish has taken the bait.”

            “Seriously, guys. Don’t do that,” Ozzie grimaced, still not used to the way they talk simultaneously like that.

            “Run along now, Jonesy,” the twins ignored his comment and slapped his ass, making the cell jump and glare at them. “Dang, that’s a mean outfit!”

            Ozzie rolled his eyes in a Why-do-I-even-give-a-crap way before moving down to the dance floor. _Alright, Jones._ _If Mr. Pheo is right about you having the power to make anyone fall for you, you’d better strut your stuff,_ Ozzie thought to himself as he took a deep breath to gather himself and started dancing just like the way he danced when he was in Gregory Metropolis gathering recruits. While he was shopping for clothes before that, he had heard from some of the customers there—no doubt male and female hookers—that they were looking forward to being picked by the handsome mayor to be his partner tonight at the Wart Disco-tech. When Ozzie decided to strike up a sort of casual inquiry about whom they were talking about, they excitedly told him that the handsome mayor was no other than Adam Roja, the man Ozzie was assigned to assassinate, indicating that he had hit the jackpot.

            His midnight-blue sleeve-less vest that was only buttoned at the end to cover his pregnant belly, showing his torso fully, and his low-cut grey cellular leather jeans that was deliberately torn around his knee area matched with a pair of onyx boots soon drew attention to whoever was within his proximity. Ozzie smiled inwardly at the good choice of clothing the twins picked out for him. He had tried almost a dozen clothing that they couldn’t agree on, and when he was starting to get frustrated over the twins’ indecisiveness, the twins looked as if they have been presented to the Goddess of Beauty or something when he came out with the clothes he was wearing now. If Thrax were to see their facial expression, he could imagine them unable to live to tell the tale, judging by the virus’ over-possessiveness. Holding back a chuckle at the thought, he briefly danced with everyone who approached him, but moved away in a coquettish manner whenever he wished to change partners, telling them with his body language that they weren’t the one he was looking for.

            The twins, on the other hand, stayed at the bar counter, sipping their drinks as they watched Ozzie danced, swaying his hips seductively along with the music and moved his hands while his feet kept with the beat, never missing a single one. Ozzie was the center of attention that night in the disco club, and they knew it wouldn’t be long before Adam, if he were there, sees him and goes for him. They couldn’t fight the blush that flushed through their cheeks as Ozzie occasionally eyed them for a while to make sure they were there and not somewhere else doing goodness knows what.

            “Damn, bro,” Rodeo said as he tried unsuccessfully to hide the tint on his cheeks, feeling the warmth. “What is going on with us? I’m looking at Jonesy as if I’m some sort of virgin schoolgirl checking out the bods of a boy-next-door!”

            “You’re right, so am I,” Rogue admitted as he chugged down his drink faster than you could blink when Ozzie glanced at their direction again. “The ol’ wacko has seriously got it good, bro. My heart is clenching like a crushing virgin every time he looks at us! I wonder if this was how the wacko felt when he first met Jonesy.”

            “Seriously, bro. he’s got some wicked outfit going on. I can’t believe we picked that! It looks so…dammit! So hot on him!”

            “You think it’s coz of the outfit that’s getting us turned on here?” Rogue asked worriedly.

            “No,” Rodeo replied as he, too, chugged down his drink at the same speed as his brother did, asking for a refill. “It’s something else about him. Even when we met him for the first time before Mommykins dragged us away, I really felt there was something different about Jonesy unlike all the white blood cells we’ve met so far. I just can’t put my finger on what. Damn, that wacko really got it good. I’m friggin’ jealous of him right now, believe it or not.”

            “I believe you, bro,” Rouge replied. “I’m feeling the same thing as well. No wonder dog boy Klepta is so friggin’ attached to him during the family gathering. Gosh, I feel like murdering that wacko in his sleep right now and take him in as my own.”

            “You’re gonna have to fight me for that…Hey, look! I think the fish has taken the bait!” Rodeo said as he pointed towards Ozzie’s direction. “We gotta tell Big Mama about this. Fuck, look at the way that bastard’s cozying up against Jonesy!”

            “Yeah, I see him,” Rouge glared darkly at the person with jealous vengeance as he took out the communicator to contact Mrs. Roja. “Hey, you asshole! Get your grubby fucking hands off Jonesy!”

            As the twins cursed and swore from afar, knowing that they could only observe and not intervene, Ozzie soon found himself in the arms of the virus he was looking for as he turned his head a little to see who the person behind him was. He knew it was Adam by looking at his features. Adam and Mr. Roja looked almost alike, with his greenish-black skin and eyes and his black dreads, but Adam looked more seasoned and older, his facial and physical features molded by years of war and fighting for his life as he reigned supreme throughout the turfs that used to belong to his siblings whom he killed without mercy. He felt his back pressed against the virus’ broad torso as his hands wrapped around his hips and his body swaying along with the cell’s, his crotch pressed suggestively against Ozzie’s ass. Ozzie flinched a little when he felt Adam’s face pressed against his and his breath near his ear, and prayed inwardly that Thrax would forgive him for doing this before he reached back to hold Adam’s shoulders.

            “Careful with the merchandize, baby,” Ozzie said as huskily and seductively as he could, turning to face the virus properly. “I make big bucks on these.”

            “Well, I’m sure you’re gonna be compensated much more if you take my offer,” Adam replied with a deep rumbling voice that reminded Ozzie of a talking wolf he saw in the movies from Frank’s dreams.

            “And what might that offer be?”

            “A night of endless pleasure with some of the best cocks and pussies you can imagine.”

            “That’s a little crude way of putting it,” Ozzie smirked deviously, but inside he felt like gagging. What was he trying to imply? Screw and be screwed by everyone he had with him?

            “But effective,” Adam winked. “You in?”

            “If you let me call the shots on how we start off the orgy, and I’m not taking no for an answer. I’ve got others lining up to divide with me, you know.”

            “You drive a daringly hard bargain for a newbie in this city which _I_ run,” Adam stressed his position as he took Ozzie’s chin harshly, making the twins curse and swear again at a distance watching this, “but lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today, and you are such a fine body with a face that hot. You got yourself a deal, baby boy.”

            “Call me Oz, baby. My friends call me that.”

            “Alright, Oz. Shall we?”

            Taking Adam’s arm and stealing a look at the twins, telling them with eye-contact to keep him in sight, he went off with the Black Death virus to join his party in his private room.

\--:--

            A massive pileup was seen in Thrax’s room as two-third of the Roja siblings were all stacked up onto the Red Death virus, pinning him down and preventing him from using his super strength to push them off with their combined weight. They seemed to be totally enjoying the pain and discomfort they were inflicting on their poor eldest brother, and they totally ignored and blatantly teased Kiaran the puppy who was jumping and yapping about at the pileup, demanding them to let his other Master go. The remaining one-third, Klepta included, were crouching, sitting or squatting in front of the virus’ face, looking down at him with a cocktail of mixed emotions while Drix stood in the background looking helplessly at the display.

            “Let me go! Let me go, you son of a bitch! Let me the fuck go!!” Thrax yelled, pounding the floor with his good claw because his killer claw was frozen by Drix for good measure lest he go killing everyone to break free and cause a family catastrophe.

            “Not unless you are going to calm down and let nature takes its course,” Klepta said as he gestured another sibling to add up into the pileup, in which he gladly did, knocking the wind out of Thrax.

            Drix felt a little out of place, almost like watching a family comedy drama unfold in front of him as he recalled the incident prior to what was going on right now. After eavesdropping on the conversation between the elders of the Roja family, Thrax’s blood was boiling and he was determined to storm out of dog city (which Klepta had ordered Mess through walkie-talkie to tail after the rat Ozzie was in so as not to lose track of him) to help Ozzie and save his life. Not an amount of persuading could make the hot-headed Thrax who was ready to make a run for it back out from his decision, thus the towering virus sandwich.

            “Fuck you, runt! Let me go, you fuckers! I have to go to my baby!” Thrax snarled and randomly hit at someone who was conveniently just above him, resulting to a bash on the head by the offended person.

            “Look at you!” Klepta pulled at Thrax’s dreads harshly, forcing the older virus to face him. “Before, you were so willing to just throw our doll out into the lion’s den to do your dirty work and you trusted wholeheartedly that he would do the job and succeed, and now here you are complaining like the lil’ wimp you are just because Big Mama sent him to do a task you yourself have been training him to do all the days you’ve been with him. You’re a fucking hypocrite yourself, you know that?”

            “That’s different! I told him to do something that I was sure it will succeed! This is something Big Mama told him to do that we are not sure it would turn out well! You’ve heard what Big Mama said to our other mothers! If he fails the test, whether or not he survives the ordeal, he’s still gonna be dead meat!”

            “It’s no different that what you told our doll to do back in Greg!” Klepta retorted. “No one can be 100 percent sure that he would succeed in infiltrating the brain centre and apprehend the mayor of Greg. If he screwed up the plan, he’s dead. If he was found out by the mayor, he’s dead. If he got caught by the feds, he’s dead. If he didn’t escape in time, he’s dead. It’s all the same! It’s exactly the same as what Big Mama is sending him to do! Why can’t you have the same confidence you had when you made our doll sign his death warrant for this death warrant Big Mama made him sign?”

            “You try being in my shoes for once, you mangy runt!” Thrax growled as he pushed Klepta’s hand away that held his dreads. “You think I never worry when I sent him on mission to help me infiltrate the brain centre? Not a second goes by without me thinking that I might end up finding my baby’s bloody corpse! You have no idea how it feels like to be worried about someone you love, so don’t try to justify yourself and the situation we’re having right now! I’ve run away before from Big Mama, I can do it again! There is no way in hell am I going to allow Big Mama to be judge, jury and executioner over my baby’s life!”

            “Hey, I care for him enough to lose sleep over this these few nights even before Big Mama and everyone else got here. I love him like family, like a little brother, and it breaks my heart to see Big Mama doing this to him but do you want to make the situation worse as it is? You think by rescuing our doll and run off just like that would solve all your problems? You know better than anyone how the Black Death family works. An eye for an eye. The last thing our doll wants is to be on the run again, and this time from a real death threat, not like those in the bodies where you can just leap from one to another without having to worry the feds that might come after you. Do you want our doll to be in that situation again, this time for the rest of his life?”

            “Why do you care?! In fact, why the bloody hell do you all care?! I heard the way y’all talk about my baby! Almost more than half of you don’t like him, and I’m sure you couldn’t care less if he lives or dies! Now get the fuck offa me!!!”

            “We may not like him,” Ambrose, Trixy’s son, replied, “but that doesn’t mean we don’t give room for chances. We see flaws on him, most definitely, but we’d like to see him disprove that.”

            “Agreed,” Edison, Gertrude’s son, nodded. “Like I said during the gathering, he may not look like Roja material, and he certainly is an outrage for a mate, since he’s white blood cell from the immunity force whose sole purpose is to take our kind down, but I guess for once, I can give him the benefit of a doubt.”

            “Yeah,” Klepta’s twin sisters Khora and Kincaid spoke in a manner same as Rouge and Rodeo, “Well, we don’t really like as a family member, but we do like him coz he’s cute. If he fails this, we could always take him as our mate and Big Mama can test him all over again. Then he doesn’t have to die.”

            “Well, I like him,” Hershey, Flazen’s son, said in the exact same jovial tone as his mother, “and I say if he is able to survive following you for so long till now, there is no way he can fail this one.”

            “True,” Nooka, Marushka’s daughter, chirped in. “And if he truly loves you, he will do whatever it takes to come back to you victorious, and you, if you really love him so much, you should be a good boy and wait for him. You always say you’re Big Daddy Thrax, so be one.”

            Everyone else who liked Ozzie agreed, and even those who didn’t like Ozzie grudgingly accepted the challenge of Ozzie enlightening them and prove them wrong of their assumptions of him. Thrax listened to all this in disbelief and surprise. Even Drix was taken aback by this. Was Mr. Pheo right? Was Ozzie really someone who had the power to charm anyone into liking him, just like he was feeling for Ozzie now? Klepta sighed and tilted Thrax’s head to face him again.

            “See? Now will you promise to behave and put your trust in our doll?”

            Thrax growled for a while before looking away, pushing Klepta’s hand off his chin.

            “Just stop calling him ‘our doll’. He’s my baby.”

            “Can’t promise you that,” Klepta chuckled as he finally gestured everyone to get off him. Thrax got up immediately, patted the dust off him while trying to breathe normally after being almost suffocated by more than half a dozen people crushing him like a ton of bricks, claiming that he needed something to drink before heading off to the kitchen, but Drix could tell that was just an excuse to compose himself from the humiliation and digest whatever was said by his estranged siblings.

            He was silent all day after that.

\--:--

            Adam was true to his words as he allowed Ozzie to start off the orgy in his way. The twins Rouge and Rodeo were able to tail Adam by sneaking into the boot of the car and rode all the way to his mansion. Just as their parents spoke of, Adam really had a number of lovers in tow, obviously prostitutes both male and female, and had Ozzie held possessively in his arms. The twins lingered outside the mansion behind the bushes until they saw the light to Adam’s bedroom open and they found a tree high enough to spy on Ozzie and observe how he would accomplish this mission, their faces showing a lot of distaste and jealous rage over the way their uncle was manhandling their ‘Jonesy’.

            The first thing Ozzie did was going to the bathroom in the pretence to relieve himself. In there, he fumbled through the medicine cabinet and was lucky enough to discover that Adam had a good stash of liquid sleeping medication, possibly because of the insane lifestyle he had. Once he came out, he asked if there were any strawberries, cream and champagne in the kitchen. Adam was a little busy trying to grope at two of the female rat cells there, so he absentmindedly let Ozzie go get it himself, serving as an advantage to the cell’s plan. In the kitchen, as he prepared the stuff, he took the sleeping medication he snuck out from the medicine cabinet and poured half of its content into the cream and the rest into the champagne bottle, mixing them well before throwing the bottle into the fireplace.

            Bringing the food upstairs into the room, Ozzie suggested food sex, with everyone stripping down naked and lather themselves with the cream before using their bodies as dipping for the strawberries to clean themselves off the cream. Everyone, being almost intoxicated from their clubbing at Wart Disco-tech, cheered at the suggestion and started having fun with the cream, making themselves as naked as a baby and happily sloshing their bodies with the cream, running the strawberries all over each other or just plain licking the cream straight from each other while drinking themselves silly with the champagne, thoroughly enjoying it. Rouge and Rodeo were quite turned on at this display, and were genuinely surprised that Ozzie had such kinky ideas, but when Adam came up to him asking him why he was not participating, they started to get worried. Ozzie just flashed him a smile and refilled the virus’ champagne glass and whispered to his ear that he had something much more delicious in store for him.

            Right at the very moment he said that, the sleeping medication took effect. Just like he did with Thrax and his recruits back at Jackson County, they all dropped into a stupor one by one until Adam finally felt the effect of the medication and fell at the cell’s feet. Heaving a sigh of relief, Ozzie used his foot to push the virus until he was lying down on his back with him facing the ceiling before taking out a large kitchen knife he smuggled in his shirt, ready to get this over and done with. The twins were surprised that Ozzie was actually be able to pull it off and were about to find a way to go inside the room through the window to congratulate him when suddenly Adam shot up and grabbed the cell’s throat with one hand and wrenching the knife off Ozzie’s hand with the other, ramming him onto the bed.

            “You bitch! You fucking bitch!” Adam growled venomously as he slapped Ozzie hard on the face. Ozzie was taken aback. How did he manage to get up? The effects shouldn’t be that short, should it? The others were snoring like nobody’s business but here was Adam, alert and bent on the kill.

            “What the…You’re supposed to…”

            “Be sleeping like a baby?” Adam finished his words. “Yeah, except you gave me a mild dose of that stupid sleeping medication. You got that from my bathroom, didn’t ya? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Oz, but that medication don’t work for me no more. I drank so much of that damn stuff I’m immune to it. They don’t make me sleep no more. I need a stronger dose, and I keep them in my bedside table.”

            “Spit, you’re a tough cookie,” Ozzie cursed, earning another slap on the face.

            “Lemme guess,” Adam said as he eyed at the kitchen knife that was flung aside, “Dakara sent you?”

            “Dakara?” Ozzie, who didn’t know Mr. Roja’s first name, echoed in surprise. Adam let another one fly across his face.

            “Don’t play games with me, bitch! Dakara, my little brother who got so many whores up his ass! He sent you, didn’t he?”

            “So what if he did?”

            “Hah! Too chicken shit to do it, so he sent a kid to do his dirty work, eh?”

            “I’m just doing my job, pal,” Ozzie growled as he tried to reach for the knife in vain. “No offence!”

            “Oh, I won’t take offence alright, once I’m done with you.”

            Adam pinned both Ozzie’s hand with one hand and flexed his claws out to tear off Ozzie’s clothes, using his body weight and sat on Ozzie’s legs so that he would not escape. Once the vest was gone and Ozzie’s pregnant belly was revealed, Adam looked dumbstruck for a while before he laughed out loud at the sight. Ozzie looked at him in horror, knowing that his nightmare was about to repeat itself again, and his heart was thumping hard against his chest, praying that whatever he did would not hurt the child when he felt Adam’s tongue running along his navel, right where the developing child was settled.

            “Not only he sent a kid to do a man’s job, he sent a knocked-up kid to do me in! Hah! And they say I’m cruel. Guess I really am a mother-fucker, ain’t I?”

            As Adam proceeded to take off his pants, the twins were struggling whether to help him or not.

            “We gotta help him, bro! Uncle Adam is gonna rape and kill our Jonesy!” Rouge exclaimed, wanted to lunge forward.

            “No, we can’t!” Rodeo held him back. “Big Mama’s orders were strictly to observe him only! We’re not supposed to help!”

            “Screw Big Mama! She’s not even here to see us! She wouldn’t know! Since when do you listen to her?!”

            “Since I know that fact that she will find out about things. She will know we helped. She’s got that friggin’ weird psychic spit that can make you tell the truth or something! She’s gonna kill us if she knows we helped Jonesy!”

            “Fuck it, bro! I don’t care if we end up getting skewered in a stake by her, I’m gonna help…”

            The sight before them made them literally feel as if time had stopped.


	21. Chapter 21

            The sight before them made the twins literally feel as if time had stopped.

            Adam was suddenly surrounded by huge tentacle-like blades, caging him in and some of them pierced through the virus’ arms and legs, restricting his movements and stopping him in his tracks. The blades were long and jagged, and were almost transparent with a bit of a purplish-blue tint on them, and Adam’s dark blood flowed down the blades where it stabbed through. Those tentacle blades slowly elongated, picking up the stunned Adam with ease before they flung him straight out of the window, sending shards of glass flying everywhere like glimmering rain. The twins had to back away to avoid the shards from hitting them.

            But it wasn’t the sudden tentacle blades that made Rouge and Rodeo stumped.

            It was the fact that those tentacle blades were all jutting out from Ozzie’s body.

            Ozzie himself was a shock to behold. His body was limp yet moving at the same time. His eyes were blank, as if he was totally oblivious to what was going on, like a walking dead. Four tentacles that shaped like spider legs jutted out from Ozzie’s back and lifted him in the mid-air, carrying him and crawled him towards the window, helping the cell to jump out of it and land on the ground right in front of Adam. His body, which had that usual steady dim glow, started to brighten up, his glow stronger than before, making him look like one of those glow-in-the-dark neon sticks. All the while, Ozzie continued to behave like a puppet without a string, his limbs limp and unmoving. It was as if his body was on auto-pilot mode.

            “Spit! What the heck is going on?!” Rouge exclaimed as he watched the display in awe.

            “I dunno, but we gotta report this to Big Mama!” Rodeo said as he clambered about his brother’s pocket for the communicator and made the call.

            While the twins reported in on what happened (in which there was no doubt the whole family, including the eavesdropping Roja children, would be listening in), Ozzie—or Ozzie’s body, to be more exact—continued to launch his assault on Adam. The commotion from the window crash alerted the guards of the mansion and they all came out to help save their boss. Armed with plasma guns, they tried to shoot at him but somehow more tentacle blades automatically appeared from his hips that acted as a shield to block out the plasma bullets. Those blades then coiled up like a snake’s head before ramming their sharp tips straight into either their guts or their chests, killing them instantly before shrinking back into Ozzie’s hips where they came from.

            “What the hell is going on here?!” Adam said as he tried to inch away from Ozzie. “Who… _What_ are you?!”

            Ozzie’s head tilted up to face him, but he wasn’t exactly looking at him. His blank eyes showed that he was still unaware of his surroundings and had no idea what he was doing. His whole body continued to be limp as his spider-legged blades came closer and closer towards Adam, with one blade each coiling out from Ozzie’s shoulders like huge scythes, bent on the kill. Ozzie’s hands slowly lifted up by themselves and touched each other before his hands clenched, bringing out two more shorter scythe blades on his forearms and with a flash, the spider-legged blades jumped to a high altitude and zoomed down towards Adam, the scythe blades on his shoulder and his forearms aimed at the Black Death virus. Composing himself, Adam quickly jumped out of the way, the scythe blades hitting the ground he sat on with a loud crash, sending the grass and dirt flying all over the place.

            “You got spunk, kid,” Adam growled as he flexed out his claws and got into attack mode. “But you’re not gonna get away fighting in your sleep!”

            A battle ensued as Ozzie’s blades clashed with Adam’s sharp claws. Ozzie’s blades would appear out of every part of his body to block out the attack and try to stab, cut or maul Adam, while Adam depended on his heightened reflexes and jumping speed to avoid the blades and try to deal damage onto Ozzie without getting himself skewered. The twins stayed on their spot on the tree watching the whole thing while doing some sort of a live commentary to whoever was listening on the other line of what they were seeing through the communicator.

            “Holy smokes! Uncle Adam just nicked Jonesy’s cheek with his claw!” Rouge reported. “And Jonesy just slashed off one of his dreads! Far out!”

            “Do you know what was the cause of his sudden defense mechanism?” Mr. Roja asked from the other line.

            “I dunno!” Rodeo replied. “Jonesy was almost gonna be done in by Uncle Adam and Ozzie’s body just suddenly flipped. Out came all those crazy thing-a-majiggy and Jonesy is just plain…blur!”

            “Sounds like little Jones’ powers can only be manifested through emotions…or trauma,” Mrs. Roja deduced. “What are they doing now?”

            “Dang! Now Jonesy just let one fly through Uncle Adam’s side! Ooh! That’s gotta hurt!” Rouge announced as he winced, sympathy pains hitting his side as he saw Adam bleeding all over the place.

            “There are more guards coming!” Rodeo replied. “And I think I see the cops! Someone’s called the feds! Spit!”

            Sure enough, there were sirens blaring as the immunity cars came closer to the scene. The sound of sirens and the flashing lights soon brought Ozzie out of his stupor and the first thing he saw once he gained consciousness was all the cops jumped out of the car armed with whatever artillery they had and blasted away once the leading officer told them to shoot at will to protect their Mayor. The tentacle blades continue to pop out to shield Ozzie from the incoming blows, but because the cell had regained control of his state of mind, the blades that were supposed to help him fight stopped functioning and disappeared into his body, leaving Ozzie confused and disoriented, and not the least bit happy.

            “What the dilly…? What the heck is going on?? What’s all this?!”

            “Uh-oh,” Rouge said worriedly. “Ozzie has come round and the blades have stopped attacking. He’s in defense mode now.”

            “Let’s see how he handles it,” Mrs. Roja replied briefly, her tone seemingly a little eager to find out what surprises were in store.

            Ozzie, on the other hand, was trying to make sense about this. He remembered being pinned down and forcibly undressed by Adam and he remembered the last thing in his mind was hoping that whatever Adam was doing would not hurt his baby. He remembered some sort of bright light that shone in his mind’s eye and a killer blow that almost felt like brain-freeze hit his head, knocking him out cold, and now he finds himself mostly naked with only his underwear on and crazy weird-looking blades sticking out of his body, caging him in as blow upon blow of shots from the immunity force guns hit them, shielding him from harm. He looked at his hands and saw the strong glow emitting from them and throughout the rest of his body. He was briefly reminded of the day Thrax infected him and the familiar warmth that coursed through his membrane soon gave him the revelation.

            “Is…Is this what…what Mr. Roja meant by…my special attributes?” Ozzie muttered to himself as he tested the waters. He clenched his fists and almost immediately, the scythe blades sprang out, and when he relaxed, it disappeared into his skin, leaving no marks. He tried it a few times, clenching and unclenching his fists to get the feel of it and tried out on his other body parts, willing them to appear. He gasped in surprise as his spider-legged blades popped out all of a sudden to crawl him away from Adam’s incoming claws as he tried to attack him again, and was surprised when he reflexively slashed at Adam, nicking him in the shin, but overall, he was starting to get the hang of this. He laughed out loud for a second, his heart leapt with joy, like a schoolboy who had just received the gift of his dreams.

            “I see you’re awake, Oz,” Adam grinned as he pounced forward, trying to deal some more damage on the cell. “You seem pretty stoned back there.”

            “Gotta admit, I was a little…distracted,” Ozzie replied as he tried to make the spider-legged blades maneuver towards the direction he wanted to go. “But now thanks to these babies, I can finish the job.”

            “Not worried that it’ll take a toll on your unborn kid?”

            “I’ll take my chances.”

            The battle continued as Ozzie went head to head with Adam. Collateral damage especially to the immunity force was inevitable, what with the both of them crashing here and there to outwit each other, and they were all hell bent on being the last man standing. Rouge and Rodeo carried on with their live report in relief, grinning at Ozzie’s semi-clumsy attempt to use both his martial skills from immunity training and the blades to try and kill Adam as per request in his test by Mrs. Roja.

            “Why do you even bother trying so hard, Oz?” Adam said as he caught one of Ozzie’s blades and crushed it with his strong claws, only to find the claw regenerating again. “Are you Dakara’s new whore or something?”

            “No way!” Ozzie exclaimed as he dodged Adam’s claw, scraping his neck a little. “I would never think of that! I’m doing this for myself!”

            “Lemme guess. That kid of yours, belonged to him? You’re doing this so you wanna get him to take responsibility or somethin’?”

            “I told you, this is not about him! And this is not his kid! This is his grandchild!”

            “Ah! One of his sons bloody knocked you up and you wanna do this to make his son take you in as his official whore, eh?”

            “I wouldn’t put it that way.”

            “I bet the father of the child is some good-for-nothing freeloader who never infected a body in his life.”  
            “No, he’s not. He’s…”

            “He’d probably be just like Dakara, always whining and griping about keeping the pact and old-school tradition and honouring the turf they were designated and all. Stupid old-fashioned prick, that’s what he is!”

            “No, he’s not! Don’t you even listen…”

            “All of Dakara’s kids are just the chip off the old block! All of them stupid pricks who don’t know the first thing about real power, about how it is not all about the quality of the work, it’s the quantity and the territory covered to reign supreme. It’s no wonder none of them made it into the medical books, why none of them made it big time, not like me! They’re all the same! Your little furball’s daddy is nothing but a prick who is too stupid to understand what it means to be in the top of the viral food chain, just like his old man, and you, kid, are wasting your time with him!”

            “How would you know? You’ve been going around killing your own brothers and sisters without even caring if they had a family or not! You don’t have a family of your own! How would you know? You know nothing about them! You know nothing about him!”

            “I know that he must be some real shmuck knocking up someone as fine as you with his dirty spawn…”

            “SHUT UP!!!”

            So saying, huge praying mantis-like blades shot out of Ozzie’s shoulder-blades and pinned Adam down, the tip of the blade jabbed through the sockets of his shoulders and the sockets that connected his legs with his pelvis. Try as he might, Adam couldn’t break free from it not only because the blades embedded him through the ground, but the pain that came with it was almost paralyzing. With his hold on Adam, Ozzie came close to him with his spider-legged blades that he had finally gotten the hang of controlling their movements. He looked down at him with a look that could kill as he hissed at the Black Death virus.

            “You can insult me with anything you want…”

            More blades came out through Ozzie’s front shoulder shaped like spearheads and, moving like machine guns, they stabbed at Adam’s limbs, literally tearing them to pieces and turning them into mincemeat before releasing his hold on him, knowing that he couldn’t go anywhere. A long tentacle coiled out of Ozzie’s knuckles and loomed downwards to Adam’s chest, stopping just a few inches above it. When Ozzie flexed his hand open, the tentacle opened as well, revealing pincer blades at the end, and they rested onto the virus’ torso. Adam looked back at him challengingly with a small hint of fear and dread at what he was going to do, but Ozzie just continued where he left off.

            “…but don’t you dare insult my mate and my child.”

            With that, Ozzie clenched his hand, prompting the pincer blades to clench as well as they stabbed through the virus’ chest and making the virus who thought had been harden by war, blood, gore and death scream like he was being bathed with acid. The twins cringed as if they feel the phantom pain of their uncle being ripped through his chest alive as Ozzie did what he was ordered to do for his test to pass. Ozzie made a pulling motion and the pincer blades shot out of the cavity of the chest, tearing out the heart along with it. Needless to say, that movement was instantaneous death for Adam as his body lay still, his eyes wide in disbelief, shock and dissatisfaction at the fact that he defeated by a white blood cell. Ozzie would probably be the last person he would ever see as he was forced to die possibly before his time. Those who survived collateral damage knew they were outmatched and it was every cell for himself, running away like the cowardly, crude, uncivilized rat citizens they were. The twins, seeing that the fight was over, quickly leapt down from their spot and trotted happily towards Ozzie.

            “Wohoo~! Far out, Jonesy!” Rogue hollered as Ozzie slowly willed the spider-legged blades to lower him to the ground and willed all his blades to retract. “You did it!”

            “Thanks, guys,” Ozzie grinned awkwardly as he retracted his last blade. “I thought I was a goner.”

            “Well, luckily you weren’t, thanks to your newfound powers,” Rodeo said as he took off his trench-coat and wore it on Ozzie to cover him up. “Didn’t think ya had it in ya.”

            “I never knew I had this power either,” Ozzie admitted, seeing his body slowly dimmed into the familiar glow he was accustomed to. “It’s kinda new for me, yet at the same time, it just flows naturally, like instinct. You think that’s what your father meant about my ‘special attributes’?”

            “Why don’t you ask him?” Rogue said as he offered the communicator to him. “They’re all ears.”

            “How did it go, little Jones?” Mr. Roja asked from the other line. Ozzie stole a look at the heart he had in his hand and smiled.

            “Mission accomplished, sir.”

            “We’ll see,” Mrs. Roja commented. “Come back and show us what you’ve got.”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            With his hands on the twins’ arms each and the heart wrapped up with a rag from Adam’s shirt tucked in the inner pocket of Rodeo’s trench-coat, they quickly made a run for it as they glided in the air and flew out of the body through the rat’s nose.

\--:--

            “Congrats on making it out alive! You’re still in one piece, are you, doll?”

            Ozzie received a warm welcome by those who liked him, and Thrax did not hesitate to push past everyone—kicking Klepta aside who fawned about the cell with relish—and embraced his little beloved cell tight, as if he let go Ozzie would disappear into thin air. Those who didn’t like him just smirked a little and patted his back, congratulating him on a job well done, and soon everyone made way for the head of the households to approach Ozzie. Assuring Thrax that he would be alright, he broke out of his embrace and went up to them.

            “Do you have the proof of your results?” Mrs. Roja asked.

            Ozzie nodded and took out the heart he kept wrapped in the rag from the trench-coat Rodeo borrowed him. Thrax saw that Ozzie was wearing underwear underneath and glared at the twins, his eyes seemingly wanting to gouge their eyes out for looking at his baby bare. The twins shot back a It’s-not-our-fault-he’s-naked look before looking to see Mrs. Roja taking the rag and passed it to her husband. Mr. Roja unwrapped the rag and revealed the heart for everyone to see, in which they gasped silently at the sight of it. Drix, who watched it from afar, was also equally shocked. He didn’t think Ozzie would actually do it and succeed, and he knew then that he no longer could view his ex-partner like he used to know. He had to see him in a whole new light and a whole new perspective now, and it hurt.

            “I must admit,” Mrs. Roja said as she eyed the heart as if it was the most normal thing to see, “you’ve proven yourself good. I honestly was in doubt that you could complete this test.”

            “No offence, ma’am,” Ozzie replied quietly. “I’m used to being doubted anyway.”

            “Well, that aside, I think you have pass the test. You have proven yourself to be Roja material, and we of the Roja family always keep our word.”

            “Welcome to the family, Osmosis Jones,” Mr. Roja concluded the verdict for her.

            Everyone clapped their hands, those who liked him clapping the loudest and whooped at Ozzie’s success. Thrax picked Ozzie up and kissed him deeply, congratulating him in relief. Kiaran yapped about at their feet, seemingly knowing that whatever was going on, it was a good thing. Drix also came up to him to congratulate him, and those who didn’t like him had no choice but to accept the fact that Ozzie was officially going to be in the family as they shook hands with him.

            “The twins had said you have acquired some new ability,” Mr. Roja said. “Would you be so kind as to show it to us?”

            “Alright,” Ozzie said as he demonstrated his newfound ability. He concentrated and made his body glow bright as before and clenched his hands to flex out the scythe blades. He then willed out the spider-legged blades and showed everyone how the legs can do the walking for him and also showed how his blades could help him be his shield. Everyone watched with reserved awe at what he could do and Thrax seemed to swell with pride at the sight of Ozzie’s powers. The poor trench-coat tore in many places where the blades appear, but Ozzie couldn’t help that. He grinned apologetically at Rodeo for ruining his clothes before retracting everything back.

            “A little bit clumsy on the moves, but with a little training, you’ll probably get the hang of it,” Mrs. Roja commented as she took Ozzie’s hand and ran her fingers along the area where Ozzie had flexed out his scythe blades in another almost-seductive way, making Thrax cringe in discomfort at the sight of it. “The clothes might be a bit of a problem as well. Do you think Majah could get him something to wear that doesn’t tear all the time?”

            “I’ll send word to Cox A.S.A.P,” Mr. Roja said as he turned towards the direction of the storeroom.

            “What are you going to do with the heart, Pops?” Klepta asked curiously.

            “Oh, you’ll know soon enough,” Mr. Roja replied with a mysterious smile. “Rest up, little Jones. You deserve it. Oh, and Baby Thrax?”

            “Yes, Pops?” Thrax looked up at him while draping his own trench-coat over Ozzie to cover him.

            “You can sleep in the same room with him now.”

            “Thanks, Pops.”

            The virus wasted no time in giving a big wet kiss on Ozzie’s face, making everyone present whooped and cheered—well, most of them, that is, if you don’t count the twins who were eyeing them with mild jealousy—before ushering the cell into the room, eager to spend the night—and possibly the rest of his life—with his baby.

\--:--

            Ozzie whimpered as he was forced to lie down in missionary position with his lower half of his body on Thrax’s lap. Thrax held his legs up and leaned them against his broad shoulders so that his buttocks were showing and took off the underwear, revealing the tender membrane for him to stroke his claws on.

            “Th-Thrax, please be careful,” Ozzie begged. “You know I’m having your kid.”

            “Yes, I know that, baby,” Thrax smirked, “but it doesn’t mean you won’t be punished.”

            “Not fair!” Ozzie protested as he tried to struggle away, but half of him didn’t really want to try anyway. “I risked my life going through all that trouble to pass the test and this is what I get? I thought we were over this!”

            “You may be officially my future mate, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t own you like a Master should. You will always be my one and only baby.”

            Ozzie whimpered again. As soon as Thrax was allowed to be in the same room with him, the first thing he did was shoo Drix and Kiaran away, demanding their privacy. Surprisingly to Ozzie, Drix, who had never liked Thrax and wouldn’t go down without at least squabbling with the virus, quietly agreed and took off with the puppy. Thrax refused to answer him directly when Ozzie asked why the sudden change in Drix’s attitude and got right down into taking off his trench-coat, throwing Rodeo’s one away with a vengeance, and felt him about. Then Ozzie was suddenly picked up like a child by the armpits and forced into the body position he was right now, being told that he was going to be punished this way because of his pregnant condition that couldn’t allow him to be in the usual spanking position.

            “What have I done to deserve this?” Ozzie complained.

            “You allow yourself to be touched. I can smell his scent everywhere on you,” Thrax growled deviously. “I recall that unless by my express permission, you are not allowed to let anyone touch you.”

            “But…But I had no choice! It’s the only way I could lure Adam…”

            “That is no excuse. You even almost let Uncle Adam rape you and you let those psycho twins see you naked.”

            “It…It comes with the territory, and…and I didn’t want them to see me naked. It just…happened.”

            “Still, you’re not getting away with letting Uncle Adam touch you, and I’m going to make sure you remember that you belong to me only.”

            “At…At least close the drapes…” Ozzie whined as he gestured at the drapes that led to the verandah. “People might see…”

            “No,” Thrax said as he held Ozzie’s thighs tightly close to his shoulder so that he would not get away again. “Let them look. I want the whole world to know that from now on, you are mine and mine alone, and just so you remember…”

            So saying, Thrax let one fly, delivering its first sting. Ozzie bit his lip at the initial pain. He guessed he had to be grateful that Thrax took into consideration that he was pregnant and that using his hand to spank him instead of something was the best way of punishing him without harming the child. Deep down inside him, he knew he deserved this punishment in a way. As the virus continued to spank him without giving any chance for the pain to dissipate, he thought of the times he was being touched and manhandled by Adam and him allowing Adam to almost rape him, sending waves of guilt running up and down his spine the moment he came back into dog city and clashed gazes with Thrax, and he needed some form of action to kill off his guilt. 5 minutes into spanking, Ozzie started sobbing, tears flowing out of his eyes and staining his cheeks, cleansing him thoroughly.

            “I’m sorry, Thrax, I’m really sorry…!!” Ozzie cried, covering his eyes with his hands as the tears continued to flow like rain, drenching his palms. He could feel his blades wanting to come out due to its defense mechanism, but Ozzie willed them not to. He did not want to hurt his beloved unintentionally and he didn’t want his punishment to get any worse than this.

            Thrax didn’t reply. He continued to spank, this time harder than before.

            “Please…Please forgive me, Thrax…! I’m sorry…!!”

            Still no reply as the spanks gotten even harder, threatening to bruise him, what with the virus’ super strength.

            “Master, please!” Ozzie literally screamed the title that he had not called the virus in a long while. “I’ll be good, I swear! Please forgive me, please!”

            Thrax still did not reply, but lucky for him, his spanks didn’t get any harder, although it still hurt a lot. 15 minutes into the spanking and Ozzie became a crying mess, babbling his apologies in an incoherent manner until you couldn’t tell the head or tail of the conversation. The virus stole a look at the cell who was crying and begging and sobbing all over the place and decided that his little beloved probably had had enough for the moment.

            “Will you let anyone else touch you without my permission again, baby?” Thrax finally voiced out as he continued spanking, but a little less hard this time.

            “No, no, I won’t, I swear!” Ozzie cried, his voice sounding almost relieved to hear Thrax speak to him again.

            “Do you promise that you will be mine and mine alone, that you belong to no one but me?”

            “Yes, yes, I promise!”

            “You are not lying to me now, are you? You’re not just saying this to get away from punishment, are you?”

            “No, no, Master. I swear I’m telling the truth. I’ll be good, I swear!”

            “Yes, you will, baby, and just so you remember…”

            Thrax let his last few swats fly really hard as a reminder to the cell, making the cell wail his name in desperation. He lowered Ozzie’s legs down and pulled Ozzie up to a sitting position before wrapping his arms around him. He hushed him and caressed his back to comfort him, whispering sweet nothings to his ear and assuring it was all over now. Ozzie’s ass stung as it rubbed against the virus’ lap, but feeling his arms around him in a soothing embrace made him forget the pain was ever there.

            “Have you learnt your lesson now, Ozzie baby?”

            Ozzie nodded, too tired to reply after having been crying and screaming his throat hoarse.

            “Don’t make me do this again, you hear me, baby?”

            Ozzie nodded again and held onto Thrax tighter, whispering, “I’m sorry, Thrax…”

            “You are forgiven.”

            Ozzie soon fell asleep in Thrax’s arms, snoring silently. Laying the cell onto the bed, Thrax went to the bathroom that was built in the bedroom they were in and came back out with a basin of water and a cloth. He took off Ozzie’s clothes and gave him a spit bath, wetting the cloth and wiping it all over Ozzie’s body, cleaning him through and through until he could no longer smell the scent of Adam on him. He then helped Ozzie dress up in night jammies before changing as well and joining the cell in slumber. His eyes rested on the developing child in Ozzie’s middle and smiled for the first time in a long time as he leaned down to kiss the middle that cradled the product of their union.

            “Grow well and strong, pet,” Thrax whispered. “Your Mama and I will be waiting for you.”

\--:--

            Everyone was gathered at the dining room having a hearty breakfast. Ozzie and Thrax were requested to sit near Mr. and Mrs. Roja, who occupied the head of the table, while the rest sat at their spot, eating their meal peacefully, with the occasional chatter among the siblings, mostly between the twins and the rest for they wanted to hear their escapades while observing Ozzie completing his task. Thrax shot them a dirty look once in a while whenever Rouge and Rodeo complimented on Ozzie’s sexiness, but all in all, there were no sudden outbursts or squabbles from either party.

            “We must finish up quickly,” Mr. Roja announced as he sipped his coffee. “I have made the necessary arrangements and have sent word to everyone, with the help of Klepta, of course. We are leaving this city and going to Crimea.”

            “Crimea?” Thrax echoed in surprise, “That is a really long way, Pops. It’s almost towards Ukraine. Why are we going there?”

            “For your wedding, of course. What else?”


	22. Chapter 22

            Ozzie had no idea how long had they been traveling, but once they have all set foot to Crimea via bird travel and settled down on Swallow’s Nest, he almost heaved a sigh of relief.

            The journey from Wyoming to Ukraine was definitely no walk in the park, pun intended. Ozzie found out that the reason why Mr. and Mrs. Roja insisted on having the wedding in Crimea was because that was the place where their 1300’s Black Death ancestors first set foot and spread their reign of terror. Every member of the Black Death family had to go through the long arduous journey to get there and have their official white wedding done to honour the ancestors who tied the knot there and swore their love to each other before starting off their worldwide epidemic. That was where Mr. and Mrs. Roja got married and where Mr. Roja was married with the rest of the Sisterhood, and this goes the same with Thrax and Ozzie.

            Thrax had been a little hesitant about traveling at first because of Ozzie’s condition, what with Ozzie beginning to worsen in his morning sickness about 3 days after they left Klepta’s dog city and the sour mints didn’t seem to work anymore, but Mr. and Mrs. Roja were very insistent on this tradition and Ozzie claimed to be alright despite the fact that he looked like a wreck. Flazen, who was the one who recommended the sour mints to Ozzie in the first place, did try to brew up a sort of herbal medication that might calm it down, but it didn’t seem to last really long. Ambrose, Trixy’s son, who surprisingly had a knack for midwifery despite being a half-Salmonella-half-Black Death virus, deduced that probably because Ozzie was a T4 white blood cell with bodily modification, the symptoms and child development may differ from a usual viral pregnancy.

            Towards their 7th day of their travel and 3 hours bunking in a German Shepherd dog belonging to a man who lived in Indianapolis, Ozzie was puking all over the place and not any amount of medication Flazen offered as “old midwives remedy” worked very well. Gertrude had no choice but use her powers that caused one of the symptoms of Yellow Fever, which was to slow down Ozzie’s heartbeat until the cell was put into an almost deep sleep condition to keep him from puking his innards out. Relying on both Thrax and Drix’s strength, they took turns carrying Ozzie on their back as they continued on their journey.

            From Indianapolis, they found out that the man, who was a traveling salesman, was going to Saint John, Canada for a business meeting, and lucky for them, he was bringing his dog along. As soon as they reached Saint John, they leapt off the dog and made their way into a stray cat that had a habit of begging at restaurants and hitching rides on trucks, thanks to a very disgruntled mayor of the cat city who had a grudge on humans and refused to let the cat be adopted by them ever again after the cat’s master dumped it when he got bored of it. The mayor agreed to take them as far as Halifax if they promise him to give him a way to get back at the humans.

            Both sides fulfilled their end of the bargain, but it wasn’t exactly the way the mayor of the cat city had expected it to be. By then, Thrax decided that Ozzie needed to wake up to eat and regain his strength (and also try their luck and see if the morning sickness phase had passed) so Gertrude reversed the effects off Ozzie. The morning sickness still remained but it wasn’t as bad as it was before, so the sour mints came back in handy, though he still could not stomach anything. The cell saw firsthand how Drix’s theory about infection really worked when he found out about the deal made with Mr. Roja. He tried asking how Mr. Roja was going to fulfill the deal but all the Roja siblings, the twins Rogue and Rodeo included, grinned knowingly and told him to watch and learn, so he did.

            Once they were in Halifax, the mayor wasted no time into demanding that they deliver what they promised. Ursula made a knowing gesture to Kurt, who in turn grabbed the mayor by the throat and dragged him into a corner, where loud bloodcurdling screams echoed throughout the office. A loud slam and banging followed as Kurt reappeared again, seeming to adjust his clothes with a sort of satisfied afterglow on his face, and everyone seemed to ignore the occasional banging and screaming for the next few days. Ozzie wanted to ask what the heck was going on but since everyone was being nonchalant about it and since Klepta and the twins gave him a naughty wink (pissing the jealous Thrax off in the process) and told him not to worry about it, Ozzie decided it wise to just go with the flow.

            Everyone lounged around for a while during those few days in the cat’s city—explaining to those who asked that they were taking over temporarily while the mayor called in sick—while still in Halifax, and soon enough, another bloodcurdling scream was heard somewhere downstairs and some sort of a struggle went on. The Roja family seemed to take it in stride as they went downstairs to inspect the sounds. Ozzie finally knew what the reason of Kurt’s actions towards the mayor and the occasional banging and screaming was, and was lucky he hadn’t had anything to eat and that his puking episodes had subsided a little. Apparently Kurt had raped and knocked up—or in this case, infected—the mayor and kept him locked up in the broom closet of the office until the spawn he planted in him matured. The mayor, or what’s left of him, was now dead, sprawled on the floor with his belly exploded inside-out. Thrax had to cover Ozzie’s eyes to stop him from looking anymore and getting sick again. Right beside the mayor’s body, was a Rabies spawn the size of a full grown toddler looking up at them not in fear or confusion, but in expectation.

            “Congratulations, Kurt,” Ursula grinned as she picked up the baby spawn and handed it to Kurt. “Looks like you got a son.”

            “Cool,” Kurt replied as he took the spawn from her hands. He then told the spawn briefly who he was and what his purpose in this cat city was. Surprisingly the spawn took it by stride and nodded in acknowledgement, as if he was born with the innate ability to know what he should do. Before they left the cat city, Kurt left the spawn on the mayor’s seat, gave him a peck on his forehead and named him Puck. He wished him luck and told him to make him proud, in which the spawn just smiled and waved goodbye as if it was the most natural thing to do, totally void of parental dependency.

            “Well, at least the mayor got his wish,” Hershey, Flazen’s son, commented. “He wanted to get back at the humans, now he’s doing it through his son, spreading Rabies.”

            “Is that…Is that what will happen to me…?” Ozzie whimpered as he moved from Thrax’s hand covering his eyes and hid his face on Thrax’s chest as they left cat city, his body shaking like a leaf after what he had just seen.

            “No, no, of course not, baby,” Thrax comforted him, rubbing his back. “You are a modified cell. It won’t happen to you. I will not let this happen to you.”

            “If you were a normal white blood cell like you used to, you might…” Drix replied worriedly but was met with Thrax’s death glare.

            “Not helping, cold pill.”

            From that cat city, they leapt into many other animals until they stumbled into another dog that was owned by a narcotics officer stationed in Halifax Stanfield International Airport in charge of sniffing out drugs in passengers’ luggage. Lucky for them, one of the airlines in the airport has direct flights to Saint John’s in Newfoundland where it would bring them closer to their main destination. From there, they leapt onto a teddy bear that belonged to a child who was together with her parents visiting relatives at Saint John’s, Newfoundland, and hitched their free flight.

            Along the way, they came across the rest of the extended Black Death family who also made the long journey to Crimea to attend the wedding after getting the message from Mr. Roja through means no one will ever know. They ran into Cox and his family in Saint John’s when they were trying to hitch a ride on a seagull, saving them the hassle of having to worry about delaying the wedding once they reached Crimea because of possible disagreements with Cox’s wife Majah (who was assigned by the heads of the Roja household) who designed Ozzie and Thrax’s wedding outfits. The future newlyweds were not allowed to find out how their wedding clothes look like, and they knew if they found out they had no say over it anyway, so they relied on the fact that Majah was a reasonably talented tailor and designer to make a compromising outfit for their big day.

            On their way to Ireland on the seagull—no doubt whoever ran the bird city was bullied by someone from the Roja family to steer the bird towards that direction—Ozzie’s morning sickness had finally stopped, much to Thrax’s relief. He no longer had to rely on Gertrude’s power to sleep off the nausea, but it was replaced with something fairly inconvenient as well. Ozzie just somehow woke up one morning with an almost uncontrollable hunger. It was more or less related to cravings, but super-sized to the point where he wanted to eat almost anything and everything, and by the time they got to London, where they met another Black Death relative there in a squirrel’s body, he had exhausted almost all the food supply that they had. The only relief that the family, and Thrax who was worried sick about Ozzie’s condition, got from this was that no matter how much he ate, he wasn’t gaining an ounce, probably more towards the relief of Majah because of her task at hand on the wedding outfits.

            By the time they reached Belgium (stocking up food for Ozzie along the way) from London via traveling by a swallow, Ozzie’s hunger was so severe he started view anything within his proximity as food. In fact, it was so bad that when Thrax offered to feed Ozzie one day, he suddenly bit onto the virus’ wrist and wouldn’t let go. Ozzie couldn’t understand it either. His rational mind knew that this wasn’t edible, but his lust for food told him to just chomp it off. To prevent Ozzie from making everyone his next course of meal, Trixy suggested that he be kept in a room under lock and key and provide him food at a safe distance from him, and since food and money was limited, they resorted to kidnapping and killing germs and bacteria-s in the neighbourhood, then fed them to Ozzie by dumping their bodies into the room to let him feast on them. In the beginning Ozzie was very objecting towards this. In his line of work, he killed them but never had he eaten them. Thrax had no choice but to use his power as a Master over him and ordered him to eat them, blindfolding him so that he did not have to look at what he was eating to make him feel better. As much as he wanted to disobey him, Ozzie knew he would balk over the urge to feed, so in his tears soaking through the blindfold, he devoured them all one by one, desperate to ease the fire of hunger in him. In the end, they stayed the longest time in Belgium to ride off Ozzie’s hunger, which lasted about almost a month.

            After one month, Ozzie no longer needed to constantly fill his gut all the time. Somehow, he had calmed down so much after the month-long feasting that his mind was up in the clouds all the time, as if he had an overdose of sedatives. Ambrose examined him and found out that because Ozzie had consumed so much food in the last month, his body is trying to keep up with digesting and absorbing everything into his system, and the only way to do that was to slow down his motor skills by creating a euphoric sensation in his brain, sending him to cloud nine. Again, Ozzie had to be carried around by Thrax or Drix as they carried on their way, but at least Thrax didn’t have to worry that Ozzie would suddenly die in his sleep due the slow heartbeat rate because of Gertrude’s power.

            From Belgium, they leapt onto numerous rats, meeting up with relatives and gathering them along the way, through the underground sewage lines that connected to Berlin, Germany. By then, Ozzie slowly returned back to his normal usual self and was fit enough to walk on his own two feet, much to the relief of Thrax, Drix and the Roja family members who liked him. As usual he was fawned, scrutinized and pampered all at the same time by whoever relatives they came across and gathered throughout the journey. They brought along wedding gifts as well for the future newlyweds, in which Mr. and Mrs. Roja advised them to hold onto them first and pass it on once they were officially doing the wedding ceremony. Like the Roja family, most of the relatives were bigamists, having a number of wives and numerous children on tow, and the twins had admit that even they had a hard time trying to keep up with who’s who in the Black Death family. Some of the relatives, especially the children, who genuinely liked him were much more clingy than others and would hog Ozzie till no end about every single detail of his background, and Thrax literally had to beat them off with a stick to get rid of them. He didn’t mind his baby being the center of attention but when it got to the point where he didn’t have enough alone time with his beloved cell, that was the last straw.

            Speaking of which, the Roja family was getting more and more attached to Ozzie, some of them more than the others, especially the siblings. The mothers, even Andie and Marushka who was skeptical of him, treated him like he was their own son as they babied him like a mother hen would to her chicks about his pregnant condition, although most of the time, their methods did not agree with each other. Klepta would get together with him every chance he got, not caring whether Thrax was around or not, and the twins Rouge and Rodeo were practically inseparable with him unless under the threat of death by Ozzie’s husband-to-be. Khora and Kincaid flirted with him whenever possible, and Hershey would always want to pull up Ozzie’s shirt so that he could see the baby spawn, while Nooka, who aspires to be a designer just like Majah, would present Ozzie with tons of dinner clothes designs and ask him which one he liked to wear during the wedding reception night. Even the siblings who did not like him at first slowly warmed up to him. Ambrose had shown hints of concern in his tone whenever he diagnosed Ozzie and at one point, when Ozzie was having his crazy-ass appetite, allowed himself to be bitten by Ozzie when Thrax tried to blindfold him so that he could make him eat whatever corpse was given to him. Edison helped catch him when he almost missed a step and fell when they were leaping onto another rat, only to find that he had held the cell in his arms longer than he should, causing him to blush, the possessive Thrax to growl at him with a vengeance as he snatched the awkward cell away from him and the jealous twins to pounce on him.

            After stopping at Berlin for a while catching up on old times with relatives and meeting up new ones along the way, they decided to leap into a stray dog (conquering and controlling the dog city at the same time) and hitch a ride on trains that took routes that led towards the direction of Warszawa, Poland. Nothing out of the ordinary happened during that journey, but once they reached Warszawa and went looking for a convenient animal to get them to the nearest airport, Ozzie started having minor cramps in his middle that were on and off and often lasted for about half an hour at most. Another diagnostic from Ambrose revealed that Ozzie’s spawn was slowly growing but since it was a cell-hybrid spawn and that Ozzie was a partially infected cell, Ozzie was much more sensitive and felt the growth much more than a regular pregnant cell or virus. Whenever that happens, Thrax would carry him throughout the rest of the journey or cradle him in his arms, helping him to ride out the pains with whispers of comfort and reassurance. Majah took note that she would have to do some changes on Ozzie’s wedding outfit later on.

            They managed to get to the airport through a janitor who works there and latched themselves on a woman’s synthetic fur coat when the janitor crossed paths with her. The woman, lucky for them, was flying to Lvov, Ukraine, which was another step closer to their main destination. Once they got off Lvov, they again hitched from rat to rat through underground sewages and finally onto a dog belonging to a teenage boy who was doing a sort of road trip to Odessa with his friends. By then, Ozzie’s cramps stopped coming so frequently and everyone could see a fair baby bump on his middle. When he lifted his shirt to see (or whenever Hershey tries to do it), he could see the spawn gotten just a bit bigger, about the size of three extra large donuts with extra fillings stacked together in width that Ozzie’s chief liked to order for his snacks. Thrax really had to guard his cell from any of his siblings or his cousins who would even think of wanting to run their grubby hands on either Ozzie or his child inside him, growling and flashing out his killer claw to warn them off. The elders of the family just watched this all in amusement.

            “Baby Thrax seems to really be overprotective over little Jones, isn’t he?” one of the relatives commented as he grinned at the way Thrax held onto Ozzie close as the cell, who was sitting on his lap, tried to convince the virus that Khora and Kincaid were not going to jump him.

            “It’s instinct for him,” Mr. Roja replied casually. “Only with little Jones, it seemed to have increase threefold.”

            “He must really love little Jones very much,” Gertrude said with a small smile.

            “Perhaps,” Mrs. Roja replied. “Perhaps there is something special about little Jones in which we are all feeling it as well, or perhaps he had finally found the one person he wished to spend the rest of his life with. I have a feeling he will keep that up indefinitely.”

            Finally, from Odessa, they jumped off the dog to land on a few rats that were getting into a cargo ship that was heading towards Crimea. After sailing for almost 6 hours, they have finally reached Crimea and hitched a ride on a few seagulls that perched just right on Swallow’s Nest, the building being the highlight of Crimea. There, they were greeted by a very old virus riding on an albino rat who seemed to be related to the Common Cold rather than Black Death. Kurt, Klepta’s youngest brother, explained to Ozzie that he was the one who helped the Black Death ancestors to get on board Crimea and officiated their wedding, thus he was awarded this rat city and was made the Black Death’s family’s official marriage priest. The old virus—Father Macross was his name—invited everyone to come into rat city where the rest of the Black Death family were already waiting for their arrival, save a few who could not come because of the impossible distance they were from Ukraine. They all stayed in the hotel near the brain centre and Father Macross directed Ozzie and Thrax to their designated rooms, stating that all preparations will be done and completed in a week’s time and that they need not to worry and let the elders do all the work. Also, according to tradition, they should not meet before the wedding day, thus the separate rooms.

            “Aren’t we a little too superstitious here, Father?” Thrax complained, not wanting to be apart from his beloved cell.

            “It’s a tradition honoured by your ancestors for centuries,” Father Macross replied. “Besides, better be safe than sorry, right?”

            “It’s OK, Thrax,” Ozzie said. “After the wedding we’ll have plenty of time to be together.”

            Thrax looked quietly at the cell and gave him a peck on the forehead before leaving to his designated room, not saying another word.

            Ozzie wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that Thrax didn’t make a fuss about it or feel lonely.

\--:--

            “Hey, baby.”

            “Th…Thrax, what are you doing here?”

            Thrax didn’t reply as he quickly but quietly went into Ozzie’s room and shut the door behind him. Ozzie backed away a little to make way for him but cringed when he smelt alcohol on his breath and clothes.

            “Were you drinking?”

            “A little,” Thrax admitted as he sat on the bed, massaging his temples and sighing almost in relief. “The guys heard of us being separated before the wedding day, and decided that I should celebrate some stupid bachelor’s night with them. They friggin’ dragged me unwillingly down to the nearest pub to drink the night away, claiming to celebrate my last day as a bachelor. Your cold pill friend was also forced to join them as well since he was close friends with you, but he settled for coke instead of alcohol.”

            “Good ol’ little health conscious cherry boy,” Ozzie chuckled as he sat beside him, offering him a glass of juice to wash off the alcohol breath.

            “The runt had the time of his life though. He was like going all ‘Alright everyone, let’s par-tay’,” Thrax imitated Klepta’s voice sarcastically, “and those crazy-ass twins were asking me if I had any last words before I officially tie the knot and surrender my single life freedom, like it’s some kind of a life sentence to me. What the fuck are they trying to imply?”

            Ozzie shrugged, grinning to his beloved, although deep down inside he knew that probably they said that to spite him because of their attachment towards him.

            “I managed to slip out of the party when they were singing and dancing along with the band on the pub stage and flirting over the bar top and pole dancers over there. I kinda left your cold pill friend alone there, but I don’t care. I wanted to see you. I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s bad luck to meet the bride before the wedding. You are my mate, and I have every right to see you,” Thrax pulled Ozzie close to his chest, “I missed you, and our baby.”

            “We missed you too,” Ozzie said as he hugged him back. “Three days without seeing you is giving me cabin fever.”

            “Three days? Has it been that long? So how’s the baby doing?”

            “It’s fine. The Sisterhood is taking rather good care of me. Just last night, the ladies celebrated my bachelorette party,” Ozzie chuckled at Thrax’s incredulous expression, “Yes, I know, it’s cheesy, but they said since I am the ‘bride’, I should be considered the bachelorette. They bombarded me with girl talk and asked me how we met and all that, wanting all the details. In fact, they’ve gone as far as asking about our sex life, which is not exactly what I want to disclose. We celebrated it at the hotel café and, don’t worry, I didn’t drink.”

            “Good, because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to our little pet here,” Thrax said as he traced his finger along the little baby bump. “Are you still getting cramps?”

            Ozzie shook his head, “Surprisingly, they’ve stopped now, and I can somehow feel it move inside of me earlier than I’ve expected. I guess Ambrose was right about it being different than a normal pregnancy.”

            Thrax purred and made Ozzie lay on the bed before lifting the shirt to see the growing spawn. The features were still indistinctive, but he could see a pair of what looked like eyes forming at the part where the face was supposed to be, and they were shut really tight. He purred again as he nuzzled at the baby bump, whispering sweet nothings to it and wishing that it will grow up strong and healthy. He then leaned close to Ozzie’s face and licked the cell’s cheek. Ozzie could tell from experience what that meant.

            “Th…Thrax, no, w-w-we shouldn’t…” Ozzie tried to push him away, although one side of him told him to shut the hell up and let it happen.

            “C’mon, baby, I know you want it,” Thrax whispered as he nibbled at Ozzie’s neck. “I missed you.”

            “Y…Yeah, b-b-but we’ve got plenty of time together anyway after the wedding. What’s the rush?”

            “Don’t you miss me, baby?”

            “Of course I miss you, but…”

            “Don’t forget who you belong to, baby.”

            Those words soon turned Ozzie on and threw everything rational out of the window.

            “Yes, Master. I’m yours. I’m all yours.”


	23. Chapter 23

            “Wakey-wakey, hanky-panky~!”

            Ozzie woke up groggily at the sounds of girls giggling and chattering amongst themselves and hands shaking him awake while dragging off the blanket. One of them went to pull the curtains open and let the light in, making Ozzie groan as the blinding shine stung his eyes.

            “What the dilly…? What time is it…?” Ozzie mumbled as he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes.

            “It’s time for your wedding, silly!” Khora and Kincaid spoke simultaneously just like Rouge and Rodeo. “C’mon, get up, get up. We’re gonna help you get ready to be the beautiful blushing bride!”

            “I thought…I thought the wedding should be after one week…It’s only, what, three days?” Ozzie looked about and was almost glad that Thrax was not sleeping with him, or they would’ve found that they have broken the tradition.

            “Do not underestimate the power of the viruses, darling,” Nooka said as she pulled Ozzie by the arm to make him get out of bed. “With a little elbow grease and contribution from everyone, we got everything set in no time flat.”

            “Settings, backgrounds, clothes, dinner reception, you name it, we’ve done it all, sweetie,” Harriette, Flazen’s daughter, chimed in. “All we need now is you and the ol’ bugger to complete the piece!”

            “Where are your parents?” Ozzie asked while allowing himself to be manhandled by the girls, noticing that it was only the Sisterhood’s girls and the female young relatives he remembered seeing during the bachelorette party.

            “Oh, they’re all getting ready for the main event,” Amrita, Trixy’s daughter, replied with a gleeful shrug. “They’re letting us young ones do the gussy up for you and the dumbass. C’mon, chop chop, Jonesy! This is the most important day of your life!”

\--:--

            “1…2…3…HEAVE-HO!!!”

            Thrax yelped as he felt a flying sensation by the yank of his bed sheets before landing on the floor with a loud thud. Loud guffaws and whoops and sounds of high-fives were heard as Thrax groaned, trying to get back on his feet. The first thing he saw was Drix standing a foot away from him chuckling quietly, only to stop and back away a little when Thrax looked up and glared venomously at him with his bloodshot yellow eyes.

            “Son of a bitch!” Thrax swore. “What the fuck are you asses doing?!”

            “Getting your ass offa bed, that’s what, wimp!” Klepta said, throwing a pillow at the older virus.

            “Wake up, idiot!” Kurt shouted as he pulled off the blanket tangled around Thrax’s body caused by the sudden pull. “Rise and shine! It’s your big day today!”

            “What in the world…?” Thrax massaged his temple, still trying to get around figuring out what the heck were his brothers waking him up when he barely slept for a few hours after an almost all-nighter with his beloved last night and also his slight hangover from the bachelor party boozing.

            “Have you forgotten, Thrax?” Drix asked as he tried to help the virus up on his feet, only to be pushed away by him irritably. “It’s your wedding day today. Time to get ready for your big day.”

            “My wedding don’t happen till a week later, cold pill. You got your little school boy schedule right or somethin’?”

            “Everything is all ready, you wacko!” Rouge and Rodeo rammed a pillow simultaneously at Thrax’s head. “Those old geezers got everythin’ worked out! Top speed, as a matter of fact, for their lil’ ‘Baby Thrax’ and our lil’ Jonesy’s wedding. Spoiled little brat as usual,” they rolled their eyes at that statement, “Figures.”

            “They’re setting up the venue right now, so,” Hershey grabbed Thrax by the collar and kicked the virus into the bathroom, “get your ass in there and clean up. You got a T4 cell to marry!”

\--:--

            Everyone spoke in hushed tones as they slowly filled up the Amberstone Chapel, the most famous wedding chapel in this rat city located at the left side of the heart, discussing about today’s event. The chapel was a sight to behold as it displayed the result of hard work and cooperation put together by all the family members to make this occasion possible. Every hand and back of the seats was decorated with white and red flowers and pinkish-white ribbons and on the ceiling was littered with white and pink balloons with a bit of laces dangling fashionably in the air. Light shone through the stained glass of every chapel window that was decorated with white and pink little ribbons tied in a bow, illuminating the decors even more. The standard red carpet was laid across the room from the entrance of the chapel towards the altar. The altar itself was also equally prepped with flowers and ribbons, and certain areas were decorated with cellular satin sheets of soft colours, with Father Macross dressed in his religious attire at the ready for the grand occasion which was about to come. The seats were filled with Thrax’s side of the family, since Ozzie was an orphan and had no family members to attend the occasion, but none of them seemed to mind the lack of the cell’s side of the family. They were all dressed in the nines and were rather excited to find out how their new Black Death family member was going to look like in Majah’s custom-made wedding attire, and they even had someone from the family being their personal cameraman and photographer to capture the wondrous moment.

            Thrax drew in a breath, holding it in for a while before letting it out silently, trying as hard as he could to release his tension along with it. The rude awakening he got was all he needed to be reminded that once this was over and done with, Ozzie was officially going to be his lawful wedded mate. Somehow, the thought of going through the ceremony gave him butterflies in the stomach and he, for the first time in his fearless life as a Red Death virus, actually felt a slight bit of trepidation as to what was to come. Standing there wearing a slightly modernized version of a black traditional Ukrainian wedding dress suit worn way back during the Black Death ancestors’ timeline, the virus scratched a non-existent itch and tugged a little at the slightly constricting collar around his neck. He was rather surprised—and a little pissed—when the boys showed him what he had to wear for the wedding, and thought they were playing a prank on him to humiliate him, but Cox confirmed it to the virus that this was what Majah made for his holy matrimony, by the express orders from Mrs. Roja, thus ending the discussion. It itched a little, what with the material used to match the traditional design as much as possible, but it was the collar that somehow bothered the virus till no end as the frills and the bow tie felt as if he was being sentenced to the old fashioned gallows.

            “Damn this collar,” Thrax cursed under his breath. “Make it even tighter, why don’t you?”

            “You’re just nervous, wimp,” Klepta whispered at his ear as he adjusted his cuffs on his sleeves. “Get over it.”

            Thrax glared venomously at his half-Rabies brother who was dressed in equally modernized traditional best man suit. He had no objections as to Cox being his best man when the older virus asked for it during the bachelor party, but was not a happy camper when he heard that Klepta and the twins, whom he had been spending all his time trying to beat them off his cell with a stick, were also becoming his best men along with one of his brothers from each mothers during him preparing for the wedding. Another ‘express order’ from the heads of the family, no doubt, although Thrax would not put aside the brothers volunteering to be the best man when asked, especially those he knew that they had grown attached to his beloved.

            “Not helping, runt,” Thrax growled. He stole a look at his sisters from each mothers gathered at the other side, posing as Ozzie’s bridesmaids and muttered, “Where is Ozzie anyways?”

            “Probably powdering his nose or something,” the twins replied simultaneously. “Ah, how we wish we could see him change in his wedding outfit.”

            “Not even in your dreams, psychos.”

            “Do you guys have any idea what he is going to wear anyway?” Ambrose asked as he adjusted his glasses.

            “Nope,” Edison shrugged. “Not even we were allowed to know what Jonesy is going to wear. In fact, when Emmett and I went to get the clothes from Majah, we were only allowed to take the buffoon’s suit and we never got to see Jonesy’s.”

            “He’s not gonna wear some sort of weird maternity dress now, is he?” Hershey asked. “I mean, I know he’s pregnant and got that lil’ baby bump of his, but if Big Mama makes him wear that kind of ridiculous outfit…”

            “If you don’t shut your trap about my baby, I swear I’m gonna slice you in half, brother or not, wedding or not!” Thrax hissed under his breath, threatening to flex out his killer claw.

            “Hey, chill, ol’ buckaroo. I’m just sayin’.”

            “What’s taking him so long?” Thrax muttered, trying to suppress another nervous sigh.

            “You think maybe he’s got cold feet?”

            The twins had meant that as a joke, and as usual, received a venomous glare from the groom, but all the best men present could tell from his eyes that he couldn’t hide the small hint of worry in them thinking about whether that possibility might be true. Ambrose and Edison walloped the back of the twins’ head on Thrax’s behalf as Klepta put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

            “If there’s anything I know about our doll, is that he ain’t a quitter. He loves you too much to back out of this now. Take comfort in that and stop being the wimp you are, bro.”

            Thrax didn’t know whether he was being comforted or insulted, but somehow he felt a little better. As he thought back, he realized that he and Ozzie had gone a long way to get to this stage. In the beginning, he had taken Ozzie in as his sex slave for the sheer satisfaction of vengeance, and that to satisfy his fascination for the first cell that almost defeated him. He had wanted to keep that relationship throughout the rest of the cell’s miserable life, hoping to break him until he no longer had the will to fight and leave him to rot once he got bored of him, but in the City of Nana when the corrupt cop tried to grope Ozzie, his possessive instincts kicked in, one that he thought would never exist ever since he vowed to show no mercy or compassion on the day Trisha died. As days went by, his possessiveness and attachment grew to a point where he could no longer control or ignore, and though he put up a façade in front of Ozzie and others as a Master figure, his heart unexpectedly clench every time Ozzie was upset or begging to be forgiven or whenever Ozzie was showing a remote indication of closeness towards anyone other than him. The feeling of love he had long since forgotten surfaced and engulfed him like fire over a dry forest and consumed him to the point where he could not bear the thought of having Ozzie away from him as he carried on with his way of ordering Ozzie around and making him play along with his sick sexual fantasies. Everything negative he felt about Ozzie’s feelings towards him was tenfold when he sort of betrayed him, but Ozzie’s confession, and his willingness to go through the test his Big Mama made him do, made him feel like all those feelings could just go to hell and disappear as he reciprocated the cell’s feelings with a passion no one could contain.

            He loved him, and the feeling was mutual. That was all they needed now.

            Soon, the long awaited wedding march played. Everyone stood up to face the entrance of the chapel hall, eager to witness the occasion. Thrax, who was pretending to be very interested with his claws, turned abruptly to face the entrance as well. He didn’t whether to run and hide or stay rooted on the floor and freeze into a virus popsicle as the flower-girls, played by some of the younger relatives of the Black Death family, marched in with the customary flower-scattering. Rouge and Rodeo reached out a hand on the virus’ each shoulder to keep him grounded and focused, and chortled when they saw that the flower-girls were led by Kiaran, a red bow tied around its neck as it carried a basket of flowers, leading the girls as if it was meant for this job. Everyone else chuckled heartily and took pictures of the interesting display. Once the flower-girls reached the end of the line and stood at the bridesmaids’ side, Nooka giggled and picked Kiaran up in her arms, cooing at it and praising it for its good work. Thrax rolled his eyes; there was no doubt the mutt his mate loved so much was trained to do this by his half-Ebola sister.

            Everyone soon held their breaths as the main tune of the wedding march was played, indicating the bride was coming in. Slowly, Ozzie revealed himself, led by Drix as his representative of a ‘father figure’ down the aisle. Thrax was stunned at the sight before him. Ozzie, being the ‘bride’, was all dressed in white in the modernized traditional Ukrainian style. The dress started slightly below his shoulders and ran all the way to the floor, the back held up by Cox’s daughters Miki—who was in all smiles at her wish to see Ozzie in a pretty wedding dress coming true—and Viki. The skirt was in layers, like rose petals, and was smooth and sleek, covering his baby bump perfectly. The girls obviously had fun with his morphing skills as they elongated Ozzie’s hair and tied it up into a bun, letting a few strands dangling decoratively about his head. He had a white gold crown as a tiara to match, its veil covering his face that ran down past his chin and shoulders, but still transparent enough to let everyone see partial of Ozzie’s face. He didn’t have make-up on but it was quite obvious that his eyebrows were trimmed a little and his goatie was shaved and plucked off, and the bridesmaids who were part of his makeover were swelling with pride. As Ozzie and Drix stopped at the near end of the aisle, with Ozzie stealing an embarrassed glance at Thrax—probably thinking he looked like a fool in this getup—Thrax felt as if he had fallen in love with Ozzie all over again.

            “To whom do you represent in the handover of this union of lovers?” Father Macross started the ceremony with the customary give-and-take session.

            “I, Drixo-Benzo-Methamphedamine, represent Osmosis Jones to hand him over to Thrax Roja,” Drix replied as he gestured Ozzie to stand closer to Thrax’s side.

            “And to whom do you represent in the receiving of this union of lovers?” Father Macross addressed the Roja family.

            “I, Dakara Roja, represent my son Thrax Roja to receive Osmosis Jones,” Mr. Roja stood up and took Ozzie’s hand and passed him to Thrax.

            “So thus the union,” Father Macross replied. “May the couple please step forward.”

            “Frank, I must look like a moron!” Ozzie whispered in an embarrassed tone as he took Thrax’s arm, a tint of colour rushing to his cheeks.

            “Hush, baby,” Thrax whispered back as he led him to the front of the altar where Father Macross was standing. “You look beautiful.”

            “We are gathered here today to witness the joining of Mr. Thrax Roja and Mr. Osmosis Jones,” Father Macross started the sermon. “Though they may be of a different race and species, and that their lives are comparable to the sky and the earth, nevertheless, true love prevails and they have beaten the odds in making an impossible relationship come true. Mr. Thrax Roja, as we all know, is a virus, great at what he does best in bringing cities to their knees in fear of death. Mr. Osmosis Jones, on the other hand, is the protector of cities, and having the sole purpose of stopping viruses like Mr. Thrax Roja from our honourable way of life. It is almost as if their relationship were not meant to be, as their purpose in life was to get at each other’s throats,” everyone in the chapel chuckled at this, “but they have gone past that hurdle, seen the world in each other’s eyes, view things in each other’s point of view, and felt each other’s feelings in a way only they could comprehend.”

            Both Ozzie and Thrax smiled inwardly at this. Father Macross was almost right about that.

            “Once mortal enemies, now divine lovers. Such is a love that most thought inconceivable, but some hold dearly to their hearts. It was a long road for them, with many obstacles to face and much doubt in between as they realized their feelings and destiny between each other. And now, they have finally come to this final step where all couples must take to fulfill their life-long wishes to live forever more in each other’s hearts. So for those who find this union objectionable and that this couple should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

            A short silence ensued as the customary objection came in. Thrax and Ozzie held their breaths, hoping with their fingers crossed that no one, especially from Mr. and Mrs. Roja and the Sisterhood, suddenly have a change of heart about this wedding. Unbeknownst to them, the best men and bridesmaids seemed to be sending death glares to everyone, daring them to say anything.

            “If there is no one to oppose this union,” Father Macross smiled as he gestured one of the Black Death’s boy relatives playing as the ring-bearer to come forth with the rings, “then I shall begin the exchange of rings and vows.”

            The ring-bearer soon came up front between Thrax and Ozzie, holding a small reddish-black cushion with the rings nestled comfortably on it. The ring for the groom was silver with small engravings of water waves along it and a blue sapphire studded on it, while the ring for the bride was gold with small engravings of fire flames along it with a red ruby studded on to match. The couple could tell that the rings were one of those custom-made ones that can stretch to accommodate the size of the finger.

            “Do you, Thrax Roja, take Osmosis Jones as your lawful wedded mate,” Father Macross finally said the words everyone has been waiting for, “to have and to hold, to love and to care, to live and to obey, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

            Thrax took the ring and looked at it for a while. Within the ring, there was an engraving that read _Love begins…_ and again, it confirmed to the virus that it was custom-made. He stole a glance at Ozzie. The cell he loved was standing right in front of him, looking back at him in anticipation. If he were to make the decision, it’ll change both of their lives forever, and there would be no turning back. But of course, this was what he wanted. He replied without any further hesitation.

            “I do,” Thrax said as he slipped the ring on Ozzie’s finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

            “And do you, Osmosis Jones, take Thrax Roja as your lawful wedded mate, to have and to hold, to love and to care, to live and to obey, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

            Ozzie took the ring and, like Thrax looked into it to see another engraving reading _...Never ends._ He looked up at Thrax. So much has happened since they were together. He was both ridiculed and loved at the same time. Sometimes he felt that he was nothing but a slave to Thrax, but at other times, he felt that Thrax loved him so much he could explode. There was never a peaceful moment with Thrax, and he knew life was not going to be easy from then on, not with having a virus with an instinct to kill and a possible future killer as his heir. He knew he was going to be dragged further and further down into the depths of hell until there was no way back up to the life he used to know. He knew he was going to carry on with the lifestyle they led when he was still his slave, and the future of their child was anything but normal. Did he regret loving Thrax knowing the dangers ahead?

            Not one bit.

            “I do,” Ozzie said with a blissful smile he had long since forgotten he had. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

            “Then by the power invested in me by the ancestral generations of the Black Death, I now pronounce you mates. You may kiss the cell.”

            Everyone stood up and gave a standing ovation as Thrax held Ozzie close by the waist and kissed him deeply. Father Macross announced them as ‘The Jones-Roja Couple’ and as they walked down the aisle with Thrax carrying Ozzie bridal style, everyone chased after them and showered confetti at them, wishing the couple well. The wedding dinner reception was a big success as well as they booked the entire cerebral hall for their dinner spot. For their dinner suits, Nooka had got together with Majah and another one of their relatives who was half-Bird Flu from Japan to design a matching set of dinner clothes for Thrax and Ozzie, with Ozzie wearing an almost Westernized version of a kimono while Thrax wore a Westernized yukata. Again, the girls made full use of Ozzie’s elongated hair to bun it up and stick in those Japanese hair accessory pins they’ve been dying to try. Thrax almost swooned at the sight of it, and Ozzie took comfort in the fact that he was getting praises rather than teases from everyone who saw in this getup, especially from Klepta and the twins.

            Wining (except for the pregnant Ozzie) and dining ensued as some of the family members came up to the stage to say a few words and well-wishing to the newly wed. Mr. and Mrs. Roja and the Sisterhood also spoke their words and hoped that Ozzie would take care of Thrax just as much as he took care of him, and surprisingly even Drix stood up on stage to wish them well.

            “Where’s Kiaran?” Ozzie said as he remembered he had to leave some scraps for the puppy’s dinner.

            “I think he’s over there, bothering the lil’ pregnant lady there,” Rouge said as he pointed at the puppy yapping and wagging its tail at a female Black Death virus, who in turn chuckled and fed him some food. Ozzie excused himself and made his way to the table where she sat.

            “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Is my Kiaran bothering you?”

            “No, no, not at all,” the female virus laughed as she picked up the puppy and passed it to Ozzie. “He is just so adorable. Congratulations on your wedding.”

            “Thanks, Mrs.…”

            “Yolanda. And it’s ‘Miss’ now. I’m a widow.”

            “Oh! I’m so sorry to hear that,” Ozzie apologized, “I didn’t know…”

            “It’s alright,” Yolanda smiled good-naturedly. “He’s been gone for quite a while now. I came with my sister and her family. They look after me well. Your Kiaran does remind me of my late husband’s dog. He was a HIV virus from the AIDS family, you see, and someone figured out how to…”

            “Wait, did you say HIV?”

            “Yes, that’s right. Pure-bred HIV virus who came from a city in Los Angeles.”

            “How far are you along now, if you don’t mind me asking?”

            “I’m due in 3 weeks. Doctors told me it’s a girl, and most probably will have my late husband’s dominant genes. Is there something wrong?”

            Ozzie looked down at Kiaran. The puppy looked back up at him with expectant eyes, as if telling him that he had found his true master and wished to be let go. He let out a sigh and smiled at Yolanda.

            “I assume you know about HIV viruses and their dependency towards their dogs and their connected life span?”

            “Well, my late husband did tell me briefly about it, and I have been wondering how to go about it since they died without the dog having the chance to procreate, so yeah, I guess I’m kinda worried about it.”

            “Then worry no more,” Ozzie said as he passed the puppy to her. “Kiaran is all yours now.”

            “Wh…What?” Yolanda exclaimed, surprised at the sudden gesture. “Oh, no, I cannot impose…It’s your wedding day…”

            “No, no, I insist. Take it as a token of appreciation from me for coming down all this way to attend my wedding. We’re family now. Besides, I think Kiaran needs a compatible master more than anything.”

            “I…I don’t know what to say…” Yolanda replied as she took Kiaran from Ozzie’s hands.

            “A thank you would suffice, and make sure you bond him properly with your daughter.”

            “I…I will,” Yolanda beamed as she held Kiaran close gratefully. “Thank you, thank you so much. No wonder Thrax married you.”

            “You take good care of your new Mistress now, you hear?” Ozzie leaned down to pat Kiaran’s head. “Hopefully next time we’ll meet again.”

            Kiaran yapped and licked Ozzie’s nose in reply. Ozzie waved goodbye to the puppy before rejoining the table with his husband. Thrax wrapped an arm around Ozzie’s shoulder and nuzzled him.

            “What took you so long? Where’s the mutt? I thought you went looking for him.”

            “It’s OK. I decided to give him to someone he truly deserves.”

            Thrax and Klepta, who heard that, stole a look at Yolanda giggling at Kiaran licking her face and smiled in understanding.

\--:--

            “Ooh…Ooh, Master…Please…!”

            Ozzie was on all fours, his arms held in a half-nelson behind his back and his head turned to the side as half of his face was buried into the pillow. Thrax was just right behind him, thrusting into him deep as he spanked him in intervals.

            “Mmh, yeah, baby…You’re still as tight as ever…!”

            “Please, Master…” Ozzie breathed, begging in his desperate tone. “Please…Please let me cum…”

            “First thing’s first, baby. You gonna have to make me cum.”

            It was their first night as newlyweds and the virus wasted no time in getting down and dirty. Ozzie was lucky that his mate took note of his pregnant condition and started off things slow with the foreplay and whatnot, but towards the middle of the game where both of them were literally screaming with release, everything slow and steady was soon tossed out of the window to Frank knows where and was replaced with fast and furious.

            “I…I can’t…Our baby…” Ozzie protested breathlessly as his cock throbbed painfully within him.

            “Then use your ass, baby. Use your ass to make me cum.”

            Ozzie pouted. When he wanted it, he could be a real pervert. Imagining what he’d like to be done to squeeze the juice out of him, Ozzie tentatively clenched and unclenched his inner muscles, squeezing and pressing around the virus’ cock, trying to make him cum. Thrax purred in satisfaction and increased his speed.

            “Good boy, Ozzie baby,” Thrax panted as his claws snaked down to tease the cell’s head of the cock. “Here’s your reward.”

            Ozzie screamed his approval as Thrax slowly started pumping him. He carried on with his ministrations, squeezing the virus’ rod as hard as he could to milk him out. Thrax growled in lust and bit lightly at the nape of Ozzie’s neck, marking him as he sped up his thrusts and pumps.

            “Mmh…Yes, baby…Cum with me…Let’s be together as one…”

            “Yes…Yes…Master…!! I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum…!!”

            “Yeah, yeah, baby…I’m cumming…!!”

            With one swift movement, Thrax pulled out and clamped the cell’s thighs around his cock as both of them screamed each other’s name in completion. Strings upon strings of their seed splattered everywhere on the sheets, sending both their bodies and souls into the 7th Heaven and back again. They gasped as their last orgasms subsided before they both slumped onto the bed, Thrax automatically wrapping his arms around Ozzie.

            “Sorry, pet,” Thrax whispered as he caressed the baby bump. “Your Mama and I hadn’t been at it in a long time.”

            “We’ve done it last night before our wedding, remember?” Ozzie pouted.

            “Yes, and that felt like forever.”

            “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, love. I’m sure our bundle of joy feels the same way too.”

            “I love you, Ozzie,” Thrax whispered in the same way he did when they first confessed each other’s feelings in that prison ward of the army barracks. “I love you forever and a day.”

            “And I you, Thrax.”

\--:--

            “Now you take care, boys, you hear?”

            “Yes, Big Mama.”

            The wedding ceremony was over and after about 3 days hanging out with the family, sending off the relatives and giving their token of appreciation to Father Macross for his services, it was time for Thrax and Ozzie to hit the road on their honeymoon and towards their future lives together. All their wedding gifts were received and kept snugly in a multi-purpose fit-all bag (which was one of the wedding gifts as well given by one of their relatives who was an inventor) and they were all ready to go. Yolanda and her family, who was the last to split, still felt a little awkward for accepting a gift from Ozzie, so in return, they presented Ozzie with another pet puppy that they caught from a lingering stray dog nearby Swallow’s Nest looking for food. It was basically like a typical germ pup that looked just like the firedog Ozzie’s friend Doug and his firemen team owned back when he was in Frank, and Ozzie happily accepted it and named it ‘Chance’ because it was like he was given a second chance to have a pet of his own. Thrax rolled his eyes at the additional excess baggage, but at least he didn’t have to worry about having his would-be daughter sharing lifelines with a mutt.

            “Here’s my gift to you, little Jones,” Mrs. Roja said as she handed him a parcel. “It’s a body-hugging suit you can wear underneath your clothes that acts almost like a second skin to you. You won’t even feel it was there at all. Majah and I designed it all day to get it right. It has regenerative features that would mend itself as soon as it tears, so you don’t have to worry about walking around naked every time you tear your clothes apart with that special power of yours.”

            “Wow,” Ozzie replied as he took the parcel. He promised himself that once they settled down somewhere, he would give the suit a shot. “Thanks, ma’am. I dunno what to say.”

            “Just call me ‘Big Mama’. You’re family now, and remember, the Black Death families always stick together, no matter what. Ya hear?”

            “I hear ya, Big Mama.”

            “You better look out for the cell, boy,” Mr. Roja said as he approached his son. “He’s carrying the future line of the next Red Death in the family.”

            “Don’t worry, Pops. I will protect him with my life.”

            “You know, Drips, ya don’t have to follow me around,” Ozzie turned to Drix who was gearing up to tag along. “You know as well as I do that the road we take is not exactly very desirable to your principles.”

            “Yes, I understand that, and I will see to it that it would not go past the necessary evil…”

            “No, you don’t understand, Drips. You know Thrax. We both know Thrax. There is no such thing as necessary evil with him. With him, it’s survival for the fittest. No matter what you do, he will still carry on killing, whether you like it or not. I have come to face the fact that this reality will never cease to exist, and I myself am carrying a child that one day will follow his father’s footsteps. I love him, Drips. I love him too much to let this go. Nothing’s gonna change that. I know all this and I choose to go through with this. There is no turning back for me now. You don’t have to choose this life.”

            Drix bit his lips. In a way, he knew he was right, and he knew that Ozzie was no longer the cell he used to know. Things change, people change, and so did Ozzie. For the better or for the worse, he couldn’t really tell, but he knew one way or another, his friend spoke the truth…and it cuts his heart like a knife.

            “You can follow either one of my family members to anyplace you want them to take you and then split off from there to find a new city for yourself to live in,” Thrax said as he took Ozzie’s hand. “We ain’t gonna spoon-feed you, cold pill, and we certainly won’t want you around. We’re outta here.”

            So saying, the virus carried Ozzie bridal style and waited for the opportune moment to jump onto one of the seagulls perched on the tower of Swallow’s Nest, waiting for it to take off to wherever fate leads them. Drix stood there watching quietly, not sure what to do. Everyone wished each other goodbye before dispersing and finding their own mode of transportation to go wherever the wind takes them.

            “So, cold pill, ya comin’ or what?” Klepta asked as he clapped Drix’s broad back. “I’ve got some nice city I heard that’ll gimme the edge I need to spread my poison. I’ll let you have whoever that city is close to.”

            “Ya really gonna let him go, ain’t ya?” the twins asked simultaneously as they naughtily circled around the cold pill with their mischievous eyes.

            “Well, I don’t know…” Drix started.

            “Seriously? Ya ain’t gonna chase after him or something?”

            “Well, I…”

            “Stop bugging him, you doppelgangers,” Emmett, Gertrude’s son, scolded. “He’s made his own choice. He’s decided to stay, right, cold pill?”

            “I…I just thought…well…”

            “Ya really gonna let him just waltz off with the wacko and not knowing what happens to him ever again?” the twins probed in their simultaneous manner. “Ya really gonna spend the rest of your life in a city knowing that Jonesy is out there, wondering if you would ever see him again, especially when you’ve finally caught up with him?”

            Drix looked at the twins, then at the rest of the Roja siblings before staring at the seagull which seemed to be prepared to leave.

            “What does your heart tells you, Drips?” Klepta asked with a knowing smile on his face.

            Drix looked down for a moment, as if contemplating something, before looking up, a resolved look on his face as he clenched his fist. Backing away a little for momentum, he glided quickly past all the Roja siblings and jumped off the albino rat towards the seagull.

            “Jones! Wait up!”


	24. Epilogue

            “Alright! Everyone make way and stay down! Don’t move and nobody gets hurt!”

            Everyone in the maternity clinic exclaimed in shock and horror and held their hands up in surrender as a black and white gel-cap pill barged in with his hand cannon aimed dangerously at them, especially husbands who accompanied their pregnant wives who tried protecting them in their arms and cowering at the closest corner possible to avoid getting shot. A few security guards tried to sneak up behind the pill but they were immediately slashed into half and melted into a pile of goo by a virus who was carrying a very pregnant and very due T4 cell in one arm.

            “Alright, who’s the leading midwife here?” the pill demanded as he stole a look at the cell who groaned in the virus’ arms before addressing back to the crowd. When no one replied, he activated his hand cannon and aimed at the nearest nurse. “I’d appreciate a response, if you know what’s good for you.”

            “I…I will take you to him,” a male clinic attendant stood up from where he was lying, holding up a shaking hand. “Please, please don’t hurt anybody.”

            “Make it snappy,” the virus growled as he kicked the attendant, urging him to make a move as the pill used the cannon to shoot some sort of hardening gel around the entrance of the clinic and the windows so that no one would be able to escape. “And if I hear anyone doing anything funny, I will burn down this building and everyone in it, understood?”

            It was a no-brainer that this was a hostage situation, and the perpetrators were no other than Thrax and Drix who tried to bring the pregnant Ozzie to a nearest midwife possible. Unlike normal cell pregnancies, Ozzie’s gestation period was approximately about 5 months. They were in this city of Larry about to take it down when the day before their scheduled assassination, Ozzie’s water suddenly broke and he soon went into labour. They couldn’t go to the hospital at the risk of blowing their cover and no clinic or hospice would let them in without the possibility of being found and reported to the authorities. Once Ozzie’s contractions started to get closer and more frequent and both the virus and the pill were not equipped in the birth department to help the cell deliver the child, they knew they had no choice but to resort to this hostile situation. Telling Chance, who had grown into a rather large and built mature germ dog, to guard the hostages, Drix took Ozzie in his arms and followed behind Thrax as the virus held the flat side of his killer claw against the attendant’s back to make him go faster.

            “Mmh…!! Oh Frank, Drips, it hurts…!!” Ozzie moaned, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to flow out of his eyes.

            “It’s OK, Jones,” Drix said as he cradled the cell closer. “We’re almost there. Just hang in there. We’re gonna get this baby out in no time.”

            “Oh, Frank-dammit, I feel like I’m gonna explode…!!”

            “Ya ain’t gonna explode, baby,” Thrax turned to caress the cell’s sweaty forehead while still ushering the attendant. “I promise it’ll be all over before you know it.”

            The attendant led them all the way to the back of the clinic and walked down a short corridor that led them into a smaller building connected to the main one was where it came in handy for emergency births for those who couldn’t make it to the hospital in time or those who are just around the neighbourhood. Under the threat of Thrax’s killer claw, the attendant opened the door to the midwife’s office without knocking and was met with an annoyed look by the midwife who was looking through some files along with a young cell who looked like a midwife trainee.

            “Thomas, what is the meaning of this? Don’t you know how to knock anymore?” the midwife asked in an annoyed tone.

            “I’m sorry, Brendan,” the attendant named Thomas said as he revealed the trio behind him. “We’ve…got a situation.”

            “Great mother of Larry!” the midwife called Brendan widened his eyes in shock at the sight of Thrax and Ozzie in Drix’s arms. “A virus and a T4 cell! Wh…What are you doing here…?!”

            “Get out,” Thrax growled at the trainee, who wasted no time in leaving the office. He then turned to Brendan and said, “As you can see, we are gonna need your help.”

            “No, absolutely not! Pregnant or in labour or not, you are an abomination and an illegal to this city. I’m gonna have to report you…”

            Thrax roared and slammed his killer claw onto the telephone and swept the midwife’s cell phone off the table, smashing it to pieces, before he could reach over to get it to make the call. Grabbing Brendan by the collar and slamming him against the wall, the virus held his killer claw threateningly close against his face and glared at him, a murderous rumble escaping his throat.

            “You will help my mate deliver my child, or else!”

            “Or else what?” Brendan challenged. “Kill me? You don’t scare me, virus.”

            “Well, I won’t kill you. It’ll be too easy on you. If you don’t help us, I’m gonna have to start bringing in those patients waiting outside there one by one and slaughter them right in front of you, and if you still won’t help, I’m gonna kill your staff next. You wouldn’t want to have their blood on your hands now, would you?”

            “You wouldn’t dare!”

            “Oh, believe me,” Thrax said as he jerked his head at Drix, who in turn shoved Thomas towards Thrax. Thrax pointed the tip of his killer claw at Thomas’ jugular, the sharp end dangerously hovering just inches above the membrane before continuing, “Believe me, doc. I have done far worse things than you can imagine.”

            Brendan seemed hesitant, but from the way the virus behaved, he knew resistance was futile. He let out an exasperated sigh.

            “Thomas, go prep up the delivery room. Call in June and Patricia and bring Masha who just ran out back here as well. It’s about time she gets her first practical lesson.”

\--:--

            Ozzie could no longer control the tears that flowed out of his eyes like rain. Beads of cold sweat littered his forehead and face and drenched through the clinic gown he was wearing as he held his mate’s hand in a death grip. He let out a groan as another contraction hit and gasped for breath, trying to keep his mind in focus.

            “C’mon, push along with the contractions! Don’t hold back!”

            Ozzie screamed as he bore down as hard as he could, his other hand gripping hard at Drix’s. Just like the day he miscarried Finn’s spawn back in the rat city where they met Cox, they discovered that lucky for Ozzie, he wasn’t going to explode like the usual cells that get infected with a virus’ spawn as Brendan found a birth canal slowly forming at the area between his anus and his balls from his modified physique as a T4 cell. He was fully dilated an hour after being prepped and ready lying on the birthing bed and had been pushing for almost half an hour now. At another push, Brendan told him to stop and take a break before proceeding.

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck, it hurts…!!!” Ozzie moaned as he lay back, the pain strewn across his face as he tried to regulate his breathing.

            “It’s OK, baby,” Thrax said as he stroked his hair. “You’re doing very well. You can do this.”

            “Easy for you to say…! You’re not the one pregnant…!”

            “Baby, please…”

            “I hate you! It’s all your fault! I hate you, I hate you, _I_ _hate you_!!!”

            “It’s just the pain talking,” Drix replied. “Don’t mind him.”

            “Frank-dammit, it hurts…!! Please get it out of me…!!” Ozzie whined, letting go of his hold on Drix’s hand and gripped at Thrax’s trenchcoat, sobbing as his shoulders shook hard.

            “I’m here, baby, I’m here,” Thrax whispered. “I’m here for you, baby. Just think about how beautiful our child’s gonna be once it’s in our arms, baby, please.”

            “I’m sorry, Thrax…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said…Please don’t hate me…”

            “No, I don’t hate you. I would never hate you. I understand you’re in pain. I’m right here for you, Ozzie baby.”

            “Alright,” Brendan said as he returned to his position to catch the baby. “It’s time to start pushing again.”

            Ozzie whined in protest, clinging onto Thrax. Thrax took his chin and kissed him deeply, trying the best he could to ease his pain if only just a little bit. At upon breaking from the kiss, Ozzie bit his lip and shook his head.

            “I can’t…I can’t do this, Thrax…!!”

            “It’s OK, baby. You can do this. Our child needs to see us as soon as possible, baby.”

            “We got your back, Jones,” Drix joined in to encourage him as well. “You’re doing great so far. Keep it up.”

            Ozzie took a few deep breaths before followed Brendan’s coaching, pushing as hard as he could to get the child out. Thrax and Drix joined in the coaching as they showered their encouragements to the cell to help him along with the birth. As Brendan advised, Ozzie pushed whenever he felt a contraction. He could slowly feel the dull ache between his legs growing worse and more painful and the little lump getting bigger as he struggled to bring his child out into the world. When Brendan announced that he could see most of the head out, the pain of splitting in half hit tenfold, causing the tentacle blades to spring out in defense mode beyond Ozzie’s control, tearing through the clinic gown and shocking everyone who didn’t know his ability present at this phenomena. Some of the tentacle blades shrank back in but a new one would spring out whenever a jolt of pain from pushing shot through the cell’s body.

            “You’re…You’re almost there, sir,” Brendan said as he took hold of the baby. He realized as he pried the baby out the birth canal that it was covered with a thick protective film. He tried to feel for a loose end of the film and started tugging at it gently, trying to pull it out.

            “Spit!! Fuckin’ spit, it hurts!!” Ozzie screamed, another tentacle blade shot out of his back.

            “You’re doing very good, Ozzie baby,” Thrax said as he winced at the pain of being cut by a tentacle blade that shot out of the cell’s knuckles. “Keep going, baby!”

            “Just a bit more, Jones!” Drix encouraged as well. “You can do this.”

            Ozzie panted for a moment or two before bearing down hard.

            “Just a little bit more, sir. Just a little bit more.”

            Another tentacle blade shot out of Ozzie’s leg, grazing Brendan on the shoulder.

            “Push harder, sir! You’re almost there!”

            Ozzie bit his lip until it bled as he felt his saline blood soak through the sheet and more blades shot out of his knuckles, cutting the two who supported him unintentionally.

            “Come on, baby, you’re almost there.”

            Ozzie tossed his head from side to side, the pain feeling as if it was eating through his membrane.

            “Keep going, Jones!”

            A blade shot out of his hip and slashed through the bed sheets as Ozzie looked like he was going to hyperventilate.

            “One last push, sir. Give it all you got. Push, push!”

            Ozzie fell back onto the bed, gasped for breath for a few seconds with his teary eyes wide open and shut them tight before taking a deep breath and arched his back, screaming as he gave it his all, making that last push with all his might. In that split second, tentacle blades of all conceivable shape and sizes shot out from every part of his body (except his nether regions), slashing, cutting and stabbing through anything within their proximity. Thrax and Drix, who had somehow sensed this was going to happen, had moved out of range when the blades shot out of the cell’s neck, missing them by just inches, although their hands suffered the wrath of the tiny spikes that stabbed through their palms. Thomas was also lucky as he was standing a little bit beside Brendan with the blanket ready to hold the baby, the blade that shot out of Ozzie’s ankle pressed against his elbow, pricking it a little and drawing a little blood.

            The rest were not so lucky. Brendan’s assistants June and Patricia were on either side of the bed handing small towels to Brendan to wipe down the blood and monitoring Ozzie and the baby’s condition when the blades on Ozzie’s hips shot out like spears and stabbed through their guts. Masha, the midwife trainee that Thrax shooed out before, had her first and last practical training as she tried to wipe Ozzie’s sweat when she was in the way of the blades that shot out of his chest, literally impaling her. Brendan was equally impaled through his forehead with a really long thorn-like blade that shot out of Ozzie’s middle. As soon as Ozzie could no longer feel the excruciating pain from the lump between his legs, he relaxed back onto the bed and his blades shrank back, sending the dead bodies tumbling to the ground.

            “Oh…Oh Frank…I…I didn’t mean to…” Ozzie sobbed in horror as he saw what he had unintentionally done.

            “Don’t mind them, baby,” Thrax said as he held his bleeding hand. “Next time, we’re gonna have to look for a midwife that is related to the HIV family. If the runt is right about ‘em dogs as their life sustainer, that is.”

            “Is…Is it a boy or a girl?” Drix asked, bringing the stunned Thomas back to his senses.

            Thomas seemed to be in shock as he picked up the bundle covered in protective film in shaking arms. Carrying it to a nearby counter mechanically, he took out a scalpel and cut through the thick film as the trio held their breaths, watching him do his work. He tore off the film surrounding the bundle of joy and turned to them with a face paler than a sheet of paper.

            “C-C-Con…gratulations…” Thomas stuttered. “Y-Y-You have t-t-twins. A…boy and a g-g-girl…”

            “Twins…??” Ozzie cupped his mouth, fresh tears flowing out of his eyes. “Oh my Frank…!!”

            Thrax walked over to the attendant and took the twins off his hands, in which the attendant soon fell on his knees in a stupor, his face in a traumatized state as his mind was still trying to digest what had just happened. Overwhelmed by the arrival of their children, Thrax and Ozzie was momentarily oblivious to the situation as they showered hugs and kisses on the squalling babies. Drix smiled and left the room to check on the hostages while the proud parents studied their babies’ features. They were born with mostly Ozzie’s features but with Thrax’s colour both on their outer and inner body with a hint of blue for the membrane and had hair like Ozzie the faint colour of Thrax’s dreads. The baby boy’s hair was dangling lazily on one side of his face while the baby girl’s hair was leaning a little towards the other side of her face and was shoulder-length. The girl had claws like Thrax while the boy hadn’t, but occasionally his left index finger flexed and retracted on its own, glowing just like Thrax’s killer claw. Thrax chuckled and stroke his babies’ hair and kissed Ozzie’s sweaty forehead.

            “They are beautiful, baby, just like you.”

            “They got half your eyes though,” Ozzie smiled as he noticed that while the baby boy had yellow surrounded by greenish field on his right eye, the girl had it on her left.

            “Thought of any names yet?”

            “Names later, guys,” Drix said as he came back with Chance in tow. “The feds are here. It’ll be a matter of time before we’re surrounded.”

            “Right,” Thrax nodded and grabbed Thomas’ collar, shaking him. “Hey, got an exit round here?”

            “Back…door…” Thomas breathed, his facial expression looked like he was still out of it. “Straight…left…dark…alley…”

            “Thanks to you, you’ll live long enough to tell this to your grandchildren,” Thrax smirked as he patted at the attendant’s pale face. “C’mon, let’s split.”

            As Thrax carried Ozzie bridal style while Drix helped carry one of the twins and made out of the exit, the sirens outside grew louder and Thomas continued staring in space, unaware that a tear trickled down his face.

\--:--

            The trio sat on the window sill and watched behind the glass as the medics came in to carry the body of Jenkins and spraying disinfectant around the area, preparing it for quarantine. A huge crowd gathered below the apartment they were at, looking up at their direction to find out what was going on and wondering if Jenkins was another unfortunate victim of the Red Death’s wrath. A whine from both the twins brought their attention.

            “Looks like our little Ozzex hungry for their Mama’s milk,” Thrax said as he took their son out of the makeshift sling around his shoulder. “We’re gonna need to get a proper baby carrier soon.”

            “Yup, so is our little Ozma,” Ozzie replied as he took the daughter out of his makeshift sling and undid the buttons of his shirt. He let Thrax pass him the boy and soon started feeding them. Chance whined in curiosity as it peered over Ozzie’s shoulder to see the babies suckling hungrily on their ‘mother’.

            “I still can’t help feeling fascinated over this,” Drix said as he observed the feeding along with Chance. “Not only your body automatically develops a birth canal for the birth, your body actually automatically lactates to feed your child, although I must say, your breasts are not as big as I had expected it to be.”

            “I’m still a guy, mind you,” Ozzie looked incredulously at the cold pill. “It’d be weird to see a guy with jugs now, don’t cha think?”

            “Yeah, I guess.”

            “How long are you going to tag along with us, cold pill?” Thrax grumbled as he wrapped a possessive arm around Ozzie’s shoulder. “You promised to leave as soon as Ozzie’s given birth, so what are you still doing here? It’s been three weeks.”

            “I told you, virus, I’ll leave when I find a suitable body,” Drix retorted back as he checked his chest plates to see if his supply of ammos have regenerated. Ever since that fateful day he leapt off the albino rat and onto the seagull to follow after Ozzie and Thrax, he had been indirectly assisting the virus in his reign of terror to spread his disease. He claimed to be worried about Ozzie and offered to look out for the cell during his pregnancy and had promised to leave as soon as he gave birth, but in truth it was an excuse to convince them to let him stay with them. Thrax said that since he was going to be around, he might as well be useful, so his condition for allowing Drix to tag along was to allow him to infect him so that he could be of use to his killing spree. As reluctant as he was, Drix knew he had no choice if he wanted to stay with Ozzie, so he braced himself to be infected. The infection gave him the power of super-strength and regenerative properties of his ammos so he didn’t have to get supplies all the time to reload his chest storage, but the infection bleached off his usual red-and-yellow complexion, making him black and white as he was now. He officially became Thrax’s lackey and Ozzie’s bodyguard as he did his bidding, invading cities and bringing it down to cinders just like the virus did to Frank and all others.

            “That’s what you said last week and the week before!”

            “Yeah, well, none of them are of my taste, so you’re gonna have to deal with it until I do find a city I want to spend the rest of my life in.”

            “I swear, cold pill, I’ll…”

            “I know, Drips,” Ozzie suddenly voiced out, stopping Thrax from whatever he wanted to say.

            “What do you mean? What do you know, Jones?” Drix asked in surprise.

            “How you feel for me.”

            “What are you talking about? I don’t…”

            “He means he knows your stupid little semi-platonic-semi-romantic boy-next-door crush on you, you imbecile,” Thrax huffed at Drix’s futile attempts of denial. “I told you before, and I’m telling you now: You ain’t gonna get it.”

            Drix was rendered speechless, twiddling his thumbs as he blushed, looking tentatively at Ozzie. Ozzie stared long and hard at Drix before he checked to see the twins had their fill or not and burped them.

            “You can stay, Drips.”

            “What?” Drix and Thrax exclaimed simultaneously as they watched in disbelief at Ozzie putting the babies in their respective slings nonchalantly.

            “You know I can never return your feelings, Drips, but I know for sure that my kids are going to need someone I can trust to take care of them,” Ozzie chuckled at Chance’s yap of protest, “Yes, Chance, you’re a real good bodyguard for your little Master and Mistress, but at the way our lifestyle is heading, they are going to need all the protection they can get.”

            “But…But, baby, why him?” Thrax asked.

            “I hope it’s OK with you, hun,” Ozzie looked up at him with those eyes that Thrax love and hate at the same time because he knew they would make him balk. “I mean, if not Drips, who else can you trust?”

            Thrax looked at Drix grudgingly. He knew his mate was right. He trusted no one, not even his own side of the family, to look after his children. He wanted to raise his spawns his own way without having anyone from the family to corrupt them or interfere. He grew up in the circumstances that were not the most desirable of lives, and he didn’t want history to repeat itself on his own flesh and blood. Besides, Drix had been with them long enough to go along with his conquest to spread his reign of terror, and had been very helpful thanks to his infection on him, and he had been keeping him in line when he promised his beloved that if he wanted to go around killing, he had to find someone who truly deserved death, like this Jenkins who was known to be a serial rapist but was released early from prison on a technicality. What else has he got to lose?

            “Fine,” Thrax sighed in defeat. “But if I see a hair missing out of my little pets…”

            “I will personally stab myself with your claw and kill myself, don’t worry,” Drix said as he held up his hand in a swearing-in mode.

            “Good.”

            As they looked down at the crowd below and watched as they took out their hand-held cameras and cell phones to take photos of Jenkins’ body being taken out of the apartment and into the ambulance while being ushered by quarantine doctors and policemen to stay away, they hear a song that was played from a radio held by a teenager who stood a few feet away from the crowd watching the scene. Ozzie paid special attention to the lyrics and smiled inwardly at how it matched their relationship. Looking up at Thrax, he could tell that the virus felt the same way as well and shared a passionate kiss as the song carried on playing:

_I wanna love you but I better not touch_

_I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop_

_I wanna kiss you but I want it too much_

_I wanna taste you but your lips are venom_

_Poison…_

_Your poison running through my veins_

_You’re poison…_

_I don’t wanna break these chains…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I really needed to brush up on my Biology for this one. I used to major in Science in high school and Biology fascinated me more than other science subjects, probably the only reason why I could actually understand the movie and its medical and biology terms used in their dialogues.
> 
> I also really had to stare at a world map atlas to get my geographic right. I sucked in that subject and had to get my bearings properly right to get a plausible plot for their journey in Chp22
> 
> The song is from Alice Cooper, so a disclaimer is needed here. Thanks to the movie and this song, it had inspired me and gave me the foundation to write this fanfic


End file.
